#its been a bit and i forgot what tags to put | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ping-ski · 19 days ago

Text

HOLY FUCK. I.. I WAS AT WORK READING THIS AND STARTED STIMMING. I WANNA DRAW FOR THIS SO SO SO BAD BUT I CANT YET UNTIL PROBABLY MONDAY-TUESDAY DAMN IT AAUTGHR

DCA Promptober Day 31: Trick or Treat

Last one! Took a little extra time but we finally made it! Hope you enjoy, this is a fun little something something for the Confused Spirit fans in the audience

Additionally, if you have not read Confused Spirit, many of these characters will have no value to you I'm guessing, so, sorry about that. There's also some slight, implied spoilers for the fic as well. That being said, hope you enjoy!

Word count: 6392

Content warning: mentions of blood, injury, and death, reader descretion is advised

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

It's Halloween at the Plex, and you're, well you're not sure how to feel about it. You had to work, meaning your sister and brother are currently out trick or treating with Clara instead of you, which is a bit frustrating. Not to mention, you'd gotten all dressed up and had nowhere to go until you got off in an hour or so.

You think a mandated Halloween party, on top of having to work on a project, wasn't a great combination, but with the glare Sarah had sent in the meeting last week to you and the other division heads, you didn't have much a choice. Have to set a good example and all that.

At the very least, you weren't the only one dressed up, so you didn't look as ridiculous sitting hunched over a desk covered in green paint and fake stitches.

Your team all had various costumes on, differing in degrees of effort and style. Pete went classic vampire, Jesse was a mummy, and Tyler was a zombie. Liv was rocking a great Mia Wallace costume, and Savannah had on a witch hat but really went for it with her makeup look.

Currently, as both a way to kill time and to potentially fix the problem you'd been having, you were all trying your best to fix the issues going on with Fazerblast.

Specifically, something had been messing with both the electric and the mechanical components of the entire attraction. While Lizzy and their team worked to determine what had been causing the random power outages, your goal was attempting to fix the malfunctioning laser guns and rogue staff bots.

You'd tried to tell both Sarah and Rachel that the place really needed shut down for a few days to actually work on it, but no luck. Seems they wanted it open for Halloween, regardless of how bad an idea you thought that was.

When your code crashes again you groan, tempted to run a hand across your face before you remember the paint.

"Frankenstein's monster was a good choice for you. You really sell it," Pete quips, sipping on a blood red slushy in one hand, still typing with the other.

You turn to him, eyes narrow, "Remind me why I'm helping you with coding again? When I could be doing literally anything else?"

"Gives him an ego boost," Jesse answers from across the room, "No offense."

You scoff, turning to the coworker across from you, "Figured as much. Savannah, any word from the company that sold us the trigger pins?"

"Not yet," She sighs, puffing out her cheeks, "But I keep checking the reviews and nobody else has had the same issues we've had here. They shouldn't be freaking out like this."

"Figured that much, too. Liv?"

She looks up and over to you, tired, dead stare on her face as she holds up the phone, "Still on hold. I'm guessing corporate left early for the day and couldn't be bothered to let everyone know."

You grimace, and check the time. It's after six now, the party starts at 6:30. That's more than enough for you at this point.

"Right. You know what, we're done here. Pack it up, we can grab food before the party because I know Sarah's going to be stingy about it."

With muted, half-defeated cheer, your team closes out of their computers and shuffles to the door. Besides Tyler, he's in a great mood still, but you expected as much.

As you're grabbing your jacket and turning out the lights, you swear you see something out of the corner of your eye by your computer. Something purple. When you turn, you find that your computer is on again, login screen staring at you.

"You coming?" Savannah calls from halfway down the hall.

You turn to yell back, "Yeah, give me a sec, just hold the elevator."

Slowly, you walk back over to your computer, giving it a once over. It looks fine, just turned on. You take hold of the mouse, and hover it over the shut off button again. As you click it, the screen freaks out, glitching before turning black. At the same time, a shock goes up your arm and you yelp, purple flashing across your vision.

Dazed, you shake your head, and clutching your arm, make your way out of the office and to the elevator.

You shuffle in, and as the doors close Jesse leans over and mutters to you above the chattering of your team.

"You alright?"

You nod, "Yeah, just, a little tired I guess." Your head feels funny, but otherwise you're fine. You think.

"What'd you do to your hand?" He asks, looking to how you're still holding it.

You let it go, shaking it off and letting it fall to your side, "Stoved it on my way out. I'll live."

He nods and you continue your ascent. But you can't shake the feeling that something's wrong. Your arm twitches and at the same time your vision becomes glazed over in a purple hue. You shake your head, and it's gone again.

The upper levels are filled with activity. Kids rush from place to place, already tired parents in tow. The words 'trick or treat!' are echoed everywhere as children go from the different tables and booths set up for the holiday.

If Lisa knew this was going on she'd have a fit that she was out going house to house instead of being here. But asking Clara to watch her in this chaos would have been cruel, and so, the less your sister knew, the better. Besides, Gabe deserved an authentic trick or treating experience as opposed to getting themed-corporate garbage in his candy bucket. For one of his first times at least.

As you pass by the Daycare, seeing many children playing in costumes and such, you see the doors are propped open, and Sun is handing out candy to a long line of trick or treaters.

"Damn Pete, the Daycare Attendant really outshone you huh?" Savannah elbows him and nods to the animatronic's costume.

Sun is also a vampire, with a large black cloak, and white shirt. His pants are somehow all black, and the change of shoes is also a surprise. Two lines of red streak down from his smile, which is still as friendly as ever otherwise.

Pete huffs, "It's literally the same costume, besides he doesn't even have fangs!"

You all start walking again, laughing.

"True, but he wore it better, even without fangs."

The comment causes Pete to start arguing with the speaker, which to the surprise of no one at all, was Jesse.

You keep your gaze on Sun a few moments more, head feeling a bit clearer for just a moment. He glances up suddenly, and waves to you, head tilting just slightly. Surprised, you also wave.

There's a buzz in your pocket. As you start to walk away again you check it.

'Your costume is nice.'

You wait for another message, you don't get one.

'Thanks???' You're confused.

'Something wrong?'

'I just would have expected you to say something snarky at this point. Genuine compliments aren't your style'

You narrowly dodge an eager trick or treater running by you, nodding at their parent as they apologize.

'It's Halloween. I'm in a good mood, don't sour it for me'

You scoff, 'There it is. I don't plan to, though it's tempting to have Clara swing by with the kids just for the fun of it'

From there, your normal bickering comes forth, and you continue it both as you head to the party and while at it. It's a bit busier than you expected, more employees than you expected are there mingling about the dancefloor.

The entire west arcade, like the rest of the Plex, is done up with decorations that set the mood. There's even a fog machine, adding to the spooky but cheerful atmosphere.

You still feel pretty funny though, and thus take the time to go 'cool off' out in the hall for a bit.

It grows worse and you have to lean back against the wall. Head throbbing as you try to drink more punch in the hopes that will solve it. Your vision flashes again, purple, and suddenly you're not in the same location anymore.

It's dark, and you're standing over someone. You can't see their face, it's covered with static. They're crying, hands up in surrender. You feel yourself chuckle, but it's not your voice, your tone is off. It's gravely. Not your own.

Suddenly, out of your control, your hand, which is not your hand but some, clawed, thing, comes down and-

Your vision goes red and you clutch your head in pain. Gasping, you find yourself back in the hallway, back in your body. Back to normal.

You take a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. You don't know what that was. You don't want to find out, either.

"Not enjoying the party, Andromeda?"

You look up, standing above you is Moon. He's also dressed up for this, wearing a witch costume that has more aspects of his usual wear to it than Sun's did. His color scheme is purple with bits of orange, and his usual hat is replaced by a large witch hat.

You relax, the pain is gone, for now, "Trying to. I've not been feeling so hot, honestly."

"What's wrong?" He sits down across from you, cross-legged.

You shake your head, "I don't know. My head has just been, feeling funny. And hurts. A lot, really. Been blocking it out I guess."

"How unfortunate. Perhaps I could be of help?"

You shrug, "You can try, but don't feel like you have to, either."

Moon holds out his hand to you, and you set your palm on top of his. He intwines your fingers, which makes your face heat up, but you think with all the paint on your face it's impossible to tell. You look up to him, waiting.

"Close your eyes, and take a deep breath," He urges.

You do. The pain has subsided some, though not by much.

"Breathe in," Pause, "Breathe out."

You follow his instructions, each breath helping to soothe you bit by bit.

You realize however, that even with your eyes closed, there's a purplish tint to the blackness behind your eyes. You frown, and notice that it grows when you breath in, and subsides as you breathe out.

Moon's grip tightens on yours, but keeps speaking.

"In," His tone shifts, growing hoarser, sinister? "Out..."

Alarm spikes in your stomach, but yet, your mind stays calm, almost like its-

You open your eyes, smiling softly, "I think I'm good now. Thanks, Moon-man."

He nods.

Then, something occurs to you.

"Wait a minute, shouldn't you be passing out candy to the kids-" You blink, and you're alone in the fully lit hallway.

You rub your eyes, had the lights been on that entire time? You knew that sometimes the two AI could avoid a switch if the light level wasn't fully one way or the other. But this was different.

You don't get to dwell on it, as a scream erupts from inside the west arcade, several others following. Alarmed, you sit up, ignoring the pain in your skull that's back with a vengeance and rush inside.

You find a crowd has gathered around the center of the dancefloor. The music's been cut, and people are muttering with horrified looks at whatever’s in the middle of the group.

As you move past people who are covering their mouths or eyes, some are crying, some are shaking their heads in disbelief. You find your team among them.

"What's going on?" You ask after shoving past another person.

Savannah shakes her head, and Liv cowers further into Tyler's arms. You've never seen him so grim.

You realize two of them are missing, your fear grows, "...Where's Jesse and Pete?"

Tyler nods to the center of the crowd, and you quickly take the few further steps to burst out into the opening, finding your fears confirmed plainly.

Pete sits on the ground, crying as he cradles a body wrapped in white cloth stained red. You have to flick your eyes away from it for a moment, the sight being beyond shocking.

Swallowing and keeping your eyes to the ground, you slowly approach Pete and sit down. Briefly, you find your eyes meeting your, Christ, your dead friend's. His eyes are wide, mouth open in pure horror.

You turn back to the man beside you, setting your hand on his shoulder as he jumps, "What happened?"

"The, the lights cut, just, he just," He can't seem to look away, he's shaking, "I don't, I don't know how this would've, who could've, do-done this..."

You put your other hand on his other shoulder, forcing him to turn and look to you, "Pete. Breathe. Just breathe. Okay?"

He nods slowly, and you turn to behind the crowd behind you, "Please tell me somebody's called the cops?"

"No signal, trying to get ahold of Derrick in the office, but haven't had any luck," You realize that it's Bri who's answering you, looking rather grim in her black cat costume.

You nod, "Right. Who's got basic medical training? I think he's gone into shock."

Someone steps forward, and starts tending to Pete. Someone else comes forward and lays a sheet over Jesse's body. A ghost costume you realize, how ironically morbid.

You stand, and-unfortunately being the person with the most experience in this scenario-try your best to take charge and calm things down. You also feel some level of responsibility, given that all the other Division Heads seem to be missing now.

Working with Bri, you send a group to the security office to see if they can't notify the police of what's happened. Additionally, you try to lock down the area to keep this from getting beyond the walls of this room and causing mass panic. Not to mention, you have no idea who did this, meaning they're still among you as far as you're aware.

It's all going as smooth as it can be until Bri and the other guards’ radios erupt with screaming. Causing you to pause in your discussion with Savannah.

You can barely make out what they're saying, only catching snippets here and there.

"-Something in the office!"

"Everybody's dead, oh god, they're all-"

"Help! Please! Anybody!"

To make matters worse, the lights cut again, sending the growing paranoia among the crowd into a full blown hysteric mob. You can't make out a thing in the dark, and when your head starts aching again, purple blinding you, you know you're a goner for the time being.

Another vison comes to you, this time, the room is dimly lit, and you can tell this is a closet of some kind.

Again, you tower over a cowering figure who you realize is, David? What in the world is he doing here? What is happening?

"I don't know what they see in you, if anything at all," A voice that's not your own, yet comes from you, says. It's familiar but yet you can't-

David's sentence is shaky, "Look, I don't know what you want but I don't want any trouble. Okay?"

"Trouble? Friend, you're in a lot more than just trouble," There's something heavy in your hands, it glints in the light, "I'll tell you what though, if you hold still you'll be saving me a lot!"

Axe, it's an axe and it's swinging, down, down, down-

"Hey, it's alright. You're alright," Bri's shaking you, hand on your shoulder.

You take a deep breath, realizing you're on your knees in a room lit by a red emergency light and some flashlights. Glancing around, you see all your friends, including Abby and even Jacob are here with you. There's a few others who you're guessing are other security guards based on how they stand near the door, on edge.

You look back to Bri, "How'd I get here?"

Bri juts her thumb, "Tyler found you half out of it on the ground and grabbed you. Somehow carried Liv here too."

"I'm stronger than I look," He flexes with a nod.

You manage to crack a weak smile, clutching your head as more pain shoots through it, "What happened? Where are we?"

"Security office by Fazerblast," Bri answers, glancing over at the covered window in the door, which you realize has been barricaded, "Furthest we could get safely with this many people."

"What do you mean by safely?"

She opens her mouth, but Pete speaks up, "The bots have gone awol." You turn to see he's on the ground, leaning up against the wall, blood dripping down the side of his head, face solemn, angry, "They're picking us off one by one. Anybody in sight is getting killed off. Doesn't help that we can't see a fuckin' thing and they can."

Your eyes widen, "What? …but, why? How?"

"Does it matter?" He asks, looking to you now, "We're dead meat if we try to leave, but we're sitting ducks here."

Bri scolds him, "We're not sitting ducks. This our best chance of getting out of here alive. If we can get power to the cameras, even better."

"Working on it," Liv says, something sparking as she speaks, "But I'm not an electrical engineer."

"Just give it up, Liv. There's no point," Pete scoffs, shaking his head.

He and Bri start arguing, Savannah trying to interject to keep the peace.

Someone sits down beside you, hand resting on your shoulder.

It's Abby, her Glamrock makeup is smeared with dried tear streaks, "Hey."

"Hey," You sigh.

She bites her lip, "Are, are your siblings...?"

Your eyes widen and shake your head.

"God no. They're, they're safe. Out trick or treating with Clara," You put a hand to your face, relieved as you realize that fact, "Your brother?"

She sighs, "Also safe. With my parents. Not here. But," She stops, and you know exactly what she's thinking.

You nod, turning away as you hear her sniffle. Your friends are still fighting, the guards by the door are getting antsy, another spark startles Liv and she looks ready to cry. You need to do something.

Your vision turns purple but you shake it off immediately. Whatever this is, it can wait. You're going to make it.

Standing, and clutching your arm to keep it from twitching, you clear your throat, "We're not going to die here. Not on my watch. Bri, you and your guys here have any sort of weapon?"

"Tasers. And there should be a baton in here somewhere. Why, what are you thinking?"

You nod to the control panel for the cameras, "If there's anyone who can get those working in a blackout, it's Lizzy. And I know they were in Fazerblast before all this. Hell, it might've been their team that caused the outage."

"You want to go out there?" Pete asks, "Are you insane?"

You shrug, "Have to be at least a little bit to do this job. Someone give me a radio. We can at least double check before considering it."

Bri hands you her radio, and after a moment's hesitation, you set it to the engineers' channel and hold in on the button, "Lizzy, you still okay out there?"

Quiet. Your friends exchange a few bleak glances.

You're about to try again when, "Uh, yeah? Why wouldn't I be?"

Relief, you think Pete even cracks a small smile.

"There's... a lot of shit going down in the Plex right now, how have you not heard about it?"

"Dude we've been stuck in Fazerblast for hours. Besides trying to fix the power the doors got jammed. I'm not leaving until this is done though, so we just kind of ignored it. Did think it was weird there was no parents complaining about not being able to use a half-functioning attraction though." Their tone is so casual you have no choice but to believe it.

The information, however, is huge, "That's, actually the best case scenario for us right now. So listen up, we gotta do this right or we don't stand a chance."

After explaining the full situation to Lizzy and their team, you work with your friends to come up with a plan. A good one. Something tells you you're only going to get one shot at this.

Meanwhile, you struggle to keep it together. You keep getting more and more flashes of that other perspective. Speaking in those voices that you can't quite place how you know. Increasingly, you start to recognize the locations they're in are getting more familiar to where you are currently.

It's a no brainer to you then, that you're a part of the team that goes to retrieve Lizzy. You force Bri to stay in the office, along with one of the guards. If you don't make it back, you at least want some people to stay safe.

You try and fail in vein to stop Pete and Abby from coming with you, Tyler picks you up again when you question him coming along.

"We're better off in even groups," Pete argues, gripping the metal chair leg he stole tightly, "Makes our chances that much better."

You don't disagree, but you don't like it either, "Fine, you're right. Now put me down please, Ty."

"Can do boss," He sets you down.

You're all armed as best you can. The guard, Joseph, has a taser, and Tyler has-apparently-pure brute force on his side. Pete has the chair leg, which is similar to the stun baton you're carrying.

Abby has brass knuckles. You don't know how she has those but you're not going to question it. Apparently, Utah state law doesn't have any clauses relating to them, now you know.

You move quickly and silently through open darkness to get to the staff entrance to Fazerblast, which is thankfully only a short distance away. You all stay close, not saying a word as you navigate.

There's not a soul around, human or machine. You don't know if it you puts you more on edge or not.

When you get to the door, Pete's able to get it open quickly, and you all file inside, locking it again soon thereafter.

The light inside the attraction is blinding in comparison to the darkness outside, the music and sound effects playing as if everything is entirely normal. It's almost more eerie in that regard.

You find Lizzy and their crew sitting around one of the towers, the reunion is brief, but happy. It's agreed that the senior engineer will come with your group, and the parts and service crew will stay for safety reasons. You're about to depart again, when the radio starts going crazy.

"We've got issues here!" Bri shouts down the line, "Don't come back, it's not safe!"

Static blares from the device, followed by banging, shouting, crying, and then a loud crash. The silence that follows is deafening.

"Fuck. No, no, no," You bang on the side of the radio, "Come on, Bri! Savannah! Anyone!?"

No answer.

"Dammit!" You toss the radio to the side, hands coming up to grip the sides of your head, "Dammit, dammit, dammit."

A hand on your shoulder, Abby again, "There's nothing we can do right now. We're going to have to refocus. Plan. Hope that they'll be okay-"

There's a banging at the front entrance to Fazerblast. Everyone freezes.

You think quickly as the sound grows in volume, "Lizzy, how in control of the power are you currently?"

They dig through their bag, and toss you a makeshift remote, "It's what we've been using to test."

The pounding gets louder, and the shutter creaks.

"Everybody who isn't armed find a place to hide. The rest of you are with me. We're gonna flip the tables on them."

Everyone scatters, and you make your way to the doors. You have no idea what's on the other side of that metal shutter, but you're going to find out one way or another. You'd rather it be on your terms.

"Can you get it open?" You ask Pete, hitting the lights and leaving only a flashlight to see.

He nods, "You're sure about this?"

"As I'll ever be. Abby, Joe, Ty, go hide nearby. We'll assess the biggest threat and go from there."

They all nod, and head off into the darkness.

Pete gets the panel open, taking a deep breath, "I hope you're right."

You press your back against the wall beside the panel, almost accustom to the feeling of your vision switching to purple. That other perspective is right outside now. You see Freddy is the one banging on the door, along with several map bots. You squeeze your eyes shut and you're back in your body again.

"Me too."

There's a beep, and the shutter slowly starts to raise. Quickly, you grab Pete and shove him on the other side of you, using your arm to press him up against the wall beside you.

As bots start pouring in, you lean your head back against the wall, holding your breath.

You watch as they fan out, scouring for anyone that they think is in here. They don't see you. You relax slightly.

You turn to Pete and nod, guarding him as he moves and shuts the door again, it quietly sinks back to the ground, locking you in here for the time being.

Moving across the wall, you regroup with the others.

"I counted six staff bots, and Freddy," Abby whispers. The other three agree.

Pete keeps lookout on your corner, "The music still playing helps us a little, but not a lot. We stick together, and go one by one, saving Freddy for last."

You frown, "Freddy's not last."

"What do you mean? Of course he is, he's going to be the hardest to take down."

You shake your head, "You miscounted. There's one more animatronic that made it in."

"Who?"

Off in the distance, you hear it, the jingle of bells. There's a flash of red as he lands on one of the walls, far off from you but within your line of sight.

You shake away the purple again, knowing it's going to show you what he's seeing at that moment, "Moon."

You fare better than you expected. A bunch of humans versus machines. You manage to take down three of the staffs bots in the dark, and by screwing with the lights a few times, manage to disorient the Daycare Attendant enough to keep them from discovering your location.

However, one of the parts n services guys gets found out, and his terrified screams as your claws rip him apart send, something, down your spine.

You know something's wrong with you now. You're taking far too much joy in beating in the metal skull of the staff bot below you. Oil splattering your clothes and face. You feel manic, alive. Out of control.

You shake your head, stopping. You ignore the glances being sent your way, you have to make it through this.

With this one you realize there's only one more staff bot left, then it's just Freddy and the Daycare Attendant. You flick the lights off again, huddling together with the others.

"If we go for one, the other is going to know. Our best bet is to divide and conquer," Pete says.

You nod, "One person with an electric weapon per team, one with something heavy. Tyler, you go with the group at the disadvantage to even it out."

Your teams end up being Joseph, Abby, and Tyler together to take on Freddy, leaving you and Pete to deal with Moon.

You trudge through the darkness, silence between the two of you.

There's been a voice in your head for a bit now. You block out whatever it says. Your grip feels shaky on the baton, and you can tell Pete's on edge more because of you than the looming threat somewhere out in the dark.

Keep it together. You just have to keep it together.

"Hello, Diana."

You turn, he pulls you up into the air, away from Pete. You don't even think to scream, instead only able to watch terrified as the ground and your friend get further and further away.

Moon settles on one of the towers to set you down again, and you scramble back and fall onto the ground, looking up at him with fear.

His faceplate twists, observing you. Then, his eyes narrow cheekily and he chuckles lowly.

"What's the matter, Bright Eyes? You look like you've seen a ghost."

You bit your lip as it trembles, raising the baton as a threat, "W-with how this night is going it's, certainly a possibility."

"But that's not my costume now, is it?" He takes a step closer.

You hold firm with the baton, hitting the button for the taser part to go off, "Moon-man, I don't want to hurt you. Don't make me."

The spark seems to deter him, growling.

"Why are you doing this? What did any of these people do to you?" You ask, beg in your words, "Killing innocent people? That's not you."

Moon snickers, and despite your waving of the baton, he moves closer, clawed finger resting on the end of it. He presses it down as he crouches to your level.

You now sit eye to eye with him as he speaks, "Andromeda, would you like to know a secret?"

Your grip tightens on your weapon, head shaking once. That doesn't deter him.

He leans in closer, his smile hovering just above your lips.

"This is the best Halloween I've ever had," Then, he kisses you. You're so surprised that you don't feel the baton be taken from your hand until it's gone.

He pulls away, chuckling again.

A loud bang suddenly resonates in the space, and the Naptime Attendant starts to twitch and collapse on the ground in front of you.

Pete stands over you both, breathing heavy as he clutches the chair leg in both hands.

"Sorry, had to take the stairs."

Moon snarls and flips around, hand raising ready to slash across the man's chest.

Panicked, you hit the button for the lights.

But it's too late.

As Sun's rays pop out, one by one, Pete can only stand there, blood slowly starting to soak through his shirt. He coughs, then takes a step forward, then another, stumbling past you into the wall. You quickly flip around as he collapses back against it, breathing ragged.

"Well, at least now you look authentic," You turn back to see Sun standing hunched over, clutching his faceplate, "Though, it's still not quite as good as mine."

As he straightens, you have to suppress a gasp as it's revealed that one of his optics has shattered from the previous impact.

His rays twitch and his focus snaps to you as you stand.

His faceplate clicks to the side, "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes, Sunshine."

"Sun." You can't reach for your baton without it being obvious.

"Are you having a good Halloween? I know I am." He tsks, "A pity about your costume, though I suppose the grit and grime really sells it."

You take a deep breath, running the back of your hand under your nose to wipe away the blood that's dripping. Your vison flashes purple, and for a moment you find you’re staring down at yourself.

You're a mess. Hair all over the place, clothes torn. There's streaks in the paint covering your skin. There's still blood coming out your nose a little bit.

And your eyes are bright purple.

You come back to and watch Sun's eyes narrow.

You shift slightly, hand twitching.

You see there’s a slight shadow over Sun’s eyes. And in his good optic a small white pupil flicks to your hand. You swallow.

"Don't do something you'll regret, Icarus."

You stamp your foot down onto the baton, it pops up into your hand and you click to turn it on.

You jut your chin out, tilting your head slightly, "Come on, Sun. You know me better than that."

You rush forward, he steps back, dodging and spinning to face you as you charge again. It's almost like a dance of danger. And it truly becomes one when Sun takes one of your hands and spins you around, dipping you low and back up as you try and fail again to use the baton on him.

You let out a noise of frustration. Charging forward again, the two of you go round and round. Narrowly you miss him every time. Narrowly he dodges every swing. He’s fast. Faster than you’d have ever anticipated, than he’d ever let on about. You never realized how close to death you may have been all this time.

After another miss, this one the closet you’ve gotten yet, Sun puts an end to your game. He grabs hold of the baton, only flinching as you turn it on, and rips it from your grip, tossing it aside. He spins you into his arms and holds tight.

You fight against him in vain.

"You know, Bright Eyes. I would have thought you'd appreciate your treat a bit more than this," He snarls the words, "But maybe you've been too busy resisting it to do so."

You slow your struggling, and Sun releases you finally. The words having done the job far better than his hold to sedate you.

You turn to face him cautiously.

"You, you did this?" You ask, "You did this to me?"

Sun tuts, hands coming up to cup your cheeks, "Well, technically you did it to yourself, Bright Eyes. But I'm happy you did. Makes all of this much, much easier."

It suddenly hits you that he's right. Maybe not intentionally, or fully knowing, but you made the choice to go back to the computer. You chose to try and turn it off again. You could have left the office, it would've shut down eventually. Something had compelled you to come closer and investigate, and you had made the choice to listen.

And now you were suffering from the cost.

"Now, let's finish this up, hm?" Sun bends and kisses you, pulling away after a moment, "You wouldn't want to disappoint now, would you?"

You don't answer. Your feet move on their own as they turn to face Pete, who seems to realize what's happening before you do.

He clutches the wound on his stomach tighter, breathing quickening, "Come on, snap out of it! This isn't you! You know it's not."

"Quiet over there, you'll get your chance to speak in just a moment," There's something set down in your hands, you know what it is, "Don't worry, I'll help you. No need for tears."

You find that you are crying, but can't do a thing to stop it. Your body is not your own, your emotions are not your own. You are entirely out of control as Sun guides you to march staggeredly towards Pete.

Off in the distance you hear shouting as your remaining friends try in vain to take down Freddy. Not that it mattered. Even if they did, you'd be finishing the job.

Your breathing is heavy but controlled, grip on the axe tight, all you can do is stare down at Pete, who looks up at you horrified, eyes wide. You think the look matches the fear in your own gaze.

Sun's hands are on your shoulders, voice a purr in your ear, "Go on, Starlight. You know what you need to do."

The axe raises jerkily, fighting against it and losing. Your eyes snap shut, and it comes down. Again, and again, and again.

You block out everything, all noise, all touches. You block out the sound of sickening crunches and squelches, of Pete's heavy gasps, of Sun murmuring encouragement right beside you all the while.

You block out the wood rough against the skin of your hands, the blood, sweat, and tears, running down your face. Sun's hands wrapped around your waist, head resting on your shoulder.

You suddenly regain control and your eyes shoot open, throwing the axe away from you and stumbling back into Sun's arms. Your hands come up to your face as you sob, shaking your head.

He just holds you as you cry, muttering things you can't comprehend as he presses kisses to your hair.

When you finally subside to sniffles is when he pulls back to press a kiss to your lips.

"There, there, you're alright, Bright Eyes. Come on now," He lifts you to your feet, arms pulling you closer as he leans in for another kiss, "I'll let you pick who's next, how's that?"

You shoot up from your bed, heart racing. You clutch your chest, breathing hard.

You're at home. Sitting on your bed. You're fine. Everything's fine.

There's a yawn to your left that interrupts your thoughts.

It's Gabe, laying on the bed beside you in his pumpkin costume. He yawns again, and stares curiously up at you, fist in his mouth. You pat his head with a sigh.

Right, you were going to put him down for a nap before heading out to trick or treat, then go to the Plex for the same thing. Looks like you ended up taking a nap too.

You check the time, it's almost five. Suddenly, a thought hits you square in the face.

"Did I kiss Sun?" You say aloud.

You do your best to recall the fading nightmare.

Oh god, you did. Right on his stupid flat face. Multiple times. You kissed Moon to but you're less opposed to that albeit confused-but Sun?

Involuntarily you gag, now feeling the sudden urge to rinse out your mouth, even if it had just been to his faceplate, much less a dream.

Shaking your head, you turn to look down at your brother, who's now somehow managed to get his foot in his mouth, despite his costume.

"Gabe, never down a bag of sour gummies and immediately take a nap, it'll give you crazy dreams."

You think you might leave the trick or treating to the kids tonight.

Something tells you that it’s for the best.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃��🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Oof, what a doozy huh? Imagine being the final girl AND the killer... crazy. Good thing it was all just a dream. Here's the promptober list and the spookvember schedule. Thanks for reading as always-

Oh?

What's this?

Looks like there's a link down here.

How'd that get there?

...

Hm.

You should click it. See what happens.

CLICK ME

btw the song playing while writing the fight scene was I Go Crazy - Orla Gartland and it was a VIBE and a half let me tell you-

#no spoilers in tag yappage so this may be out of context if u read it or not #MIDNIGHT YOU FUCKING HOOLIGAN YOU DID IT AGAIN #ANOTHER BANGER I DONT EVEN KNOW WHERE TO BEGIN ARJTBGT #I'M THROTTLING YOU /AFF /POS #ME WHEN THEY CONFUSE ON MY SPIRITS #dude im in shambles i felt my heart ache and i felt joy #also a strong (not unusual) feeling of ehhhh they're hot so ill let this slide (its not okay what the FUCK WHAT THE FUCK)#I FORGOT I WAS AT WORK AND WAS HAVING THE MOST VIVID IMAGINATION TRYING TO PUT VISUALS TO THE TEXT AND OHHH MY GOD #YOU LITERALLY ORCHESTRATED A MASTERPIECE AND IM CRYING #FOR THIS.. YOU GET PUT INTO THE DISHWASHER #THE SALAD SPINNER WAS TOO KIND #it was so good tho honestly ugh #what if i #embark on a journey to just... reread confused spirit again huh #live ping reaction pt.2 /j #anyways U ATE THAT SHIT UP U SHOULD BE PROUD I WAS EMOTIONALLY MOVED AND DISTRAUGHT YET ALSO SWOONING #i need those animatronics like i need WATER and AIR to live dawg im in shambles #spirits have been successfully confused AND IM SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT BIT OH MY GOD #LIKE WDYM YPU HAD MORE #YOU SLY DOG YOUUUU AGHHRR #cw blood #cw injury #confused spirit #dca fic #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #fnaf daycare attendant #dca fandom #u should also def read DFtR!! wouldnt fix u per say but hey time to be rabid ab multiple dca fics LMAO

80 notes · View notes

spatialwave · 5 days ago

Text

➸ ask: “I will actually go insane if you do “kitchen counter makeouts” with Viktor (established relationship) pls” — ➸ pairing: viktor x fem!reader ➸ word count: 755 ➸ tags: mdni! semi-nsfw, no smut, kissing, fluff, established relationship, dominant viktor, no use of y/n. ➸ notes: i wrote this in thirty minutes. i’m so down bad. ask came from this prompt – tysm for sending! <3

“Viktor,” your voice, panicked, called from the kitchen. You were hovered over the stove, currently in the middle of a futile attempt at cooking a Sunday night dinner. You cut your finger twice already, and forgot an important step when putting the casserole into its dish – everything was falling apart.

The sounds of uneven footsteps and the soft tap of a cane came down the hallway, your lover pulling himself away from his work to check on you.

“What’s wrong?” His voice matched your own, hurrying to your side to see if you’d hurt yourself again. He looked over the empty stove, then to you.

“Sorry,” you smiled up at him, “false alarm.”

The man crinkled his nose, eyes narrowing, “You scared me, I thought you cut yourself again.”

“All good now, thanks to you,” you grinned, lifting your hand to reveal the two bandages that were wrapped delicately around your clumsy fingers. He couldn’t stay mad at you, not when your cheeks dimpled and your eyes sparkled at the slightest bit of attention received from him.

A heavy sigh left his lips, followed by the shake of his head, “I have to finish up my notes, can you let me know when dinner is ready?” He asked, eyes widening when your bottom lip jutted out in a big pout in immediate response.

“But the food is going to take at least twenty more minutes before it’s ready, can’t you just keep me company?” You asked coyly, bandaged fingers pressing to his chest and sliding up until they held his neck. Then, up into his hair, where they brushed through the brunet strands.

“Ah,” he hummed, cane discarded, so his hands could rest on your hips, “you miss me, no?”

“Maybe,” you shrugged, pulling him until your backside was pressed against the kitchen counter, and he leaned much of his weight against you, “or maybe I’ve missed your lips.”

You loved when you managed to wrangle a genuine smile out of Viktor, seeing his teeth flash from behind his lips as a rosy pink blush covered his cheeks. Oh, how that always filled you with butterflies.

It was obvious that he missed yours just as equally, considering your feet that were once flat on the ground were now dangling as you sat on the countertop. He’d pushed himself forward, forcing your legs apart as he gifted you with what you had been desiring.

Viktor’s lips pressed to yours, eager and needy. You whined at the sudden motion, lips parting just enough so he could slip his tongue between yours. Shivers ran up your spine, leaving a chill along your skin as his tongue tangled with yours. A fight for dominance that he won easily.

“Viktor,” you moaned, fingers tightening in his hair and eliciting a whimper from his lips that instantly heated up your once-cold body.

There wasn’t enough time in the world that could be provided to satiate Viktor on his path to experience everything with you. To taste every flavour on your tongue, like the glass of wine you had just finished, or to inhale the perfume that clung to your clothes and made you smell sickeningly sweet. The only scene that calmed his nerves.

He pulled his lips from yours, instead latching to your neck and nipping at the skin. He’d always been so damned good at kissing, leaving you a moaning, writhing mess with only his lips. Whether it was your jaw, neck or between your legs.

A particularly hard pinch of his teeth on your skin made you whine, and he hummed against your skin–licking.

Hands pressed underneath the hem of your shirt, nails grazing the surface of your skin until his fingers tightened around your hips. He forced you closer, room for you to roll your hips against his so you could chase the friction that your body craved so desperately.

“I’m not even hungry anymore,” you breathed out, eyes closed as your back arched when his tongue glided over your collarbone. Over another mark he’d left so greedily.

Viktor pulled back at your words, his hair messy and lips a tad swollen. You felt small under his gaze, feeling this way only when you’d riled him up enough.

“Then we should probably turn off the oven and head to bed, no?” He asked, a flash of lust flickering through his eyes.

The oven beeped when it shut off, and your moans carried through the apartment as you ventured far from the mess you dared to call a meal.

#viktor #viktor x reader #viktor x you #viktor arcane #arcane fic #arcane fanfiction #viktor fanfic #wordsbyspatial #spatialanswers

379 notes · View notes

winterzsurprise · 2 months ago

Text

Change My Mind [4]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 7.1k

nothing much to say this time but this is not beta read, my friend who was supposed to read it is unfortunately unavailable, idk if the argument makes sense in the end cause I personally run from confrontations so idk how to write good arguments so yeah.

ANYWAYS, Happy reading!!

<<<Prev || MASTERLIST || Next>>>

TAGLIST: @wildestdreamsblog @canarystwin @prettywheenicry @jmnscutie @sassy-snassy @misuguru @11thenightwemet11 @yoongibaybee @rinkud

___________

In all of your years working for Bangtan, as one of their staff and the youngest stylist, you've been included in every life events and celebrations there is. Birthdays, first wins, comebacks, everything there is even something as important as family dinners. You've never skipped or forgot a single member's birthday, period.

But as Guwon stands before you, a plane ticket to Jeju in hand with the departure scheduled tomorrow and returning just a day short before the tour, you find yourself at a crossroad. It’s Jungkook's birthday tomorrow and Jimin has planned a small party tonight at their dorms before the formal celebration at the company the next day.

While you've been trying to rectify the awkward air between you and the maknae since his confession by starting conversations, the maknae only replied to you with silence before promptly vanishing in two seconds flat.

But despite the strain in your relationship, you could never think of not attending his birthday. You'd never thought to be petty enough to return his energy. His present was already wrapped in a pretty bow under your bed for a week now for Christ's sake!

“I-I can't… It's one of their birthday’s tomorrow.”

“Oh.” His smile falls. “Can't you just give your gift today? Surely they can party for one night without you.”

It was a genuine question, logical and true but for some reason, his tone raised concerns within you. You swear to the highest heavens you could hear a bit of irritation hidden beneath dejection.

You winced. “I can't, I'm really sorry… I-I can pay you back what you've spent for the trip. I'm really sorry, I just never missed any of their birthdays. I swear I'll make it up to you next time!”

Guwon's shine dulled the further you went on and your heart twinged with guilt. In another universe where some humans gained animalistic features, he'd have dog ears pressed to his skull, staring at you with wide and glistening eyes.

You waved off the image immediately, disturbed.

“It's also my fault for not asking for your schedule. The tour is next week and then you'd be away from me for months so I kind of… panicked. I'm sorry.”

He should've known better than not to do research on your bosses , a voice at the back of your head scoffed and you waved the thought away as you put a hand over his.

“I should've notified you as well. Tell me if those are refundable or not, I'll pay you back.”

He waves you off. “Cute but I've been raised well to know not to ask a lady to pay for my mistake, so don't worry that pretty head of yours about not being able to go.”

The date continued and thankfully, no dead air remained and conversation eased out of the both of you. Guwon sorted out his reservations early on, he'd stopped eating every once in a while to pick up his phone to either receive a call or respond to an email.

With how often he answered the chimes of his phone and how long it took for him to finally put it down, you figured he must've prepared a lot for the week and it made you feel more guilty every time he did it.

Today, he brought you both to an indoor park he rented for an hour for a picnic. It was on the outskirts of Seoul and he also cooked most of the food placed between you both, his mother however, was responsible for the side dishes.

Speaking of mothers, yours called earlier to congratulate you on whatever it was she was adamant on keeping secret but you already knew what it was and you were glad Jungkook’s mother gave birth on such a perfect day almost 21 years ago.

Guwon was planning to propose to you during the trip.

It left a bitter taste in your tongue. Sure you had expected to be married to him at some point but you barely knew the man outside of his colorful stories, and knew none of his actual behavior in his home. You haven't even visited his house yet for a vibe check so why is he rushing too fast?

Despite the guilt in your heart, relief is more palpable knowing you'd have more time to figure out if you truly want Guwon in your life.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you took a glance at it.

[17:29] Jinnie: I'll pick you up at your apartment by 6. [17:29] Jinnie: please be prepared😊

Seeing the t̶h̶r̶e̶a̶t̶e̶n̶i̶n̶g̶ friendly smile attached at the end of his message, you're suddenly reminded of the present. You hadn't told any of them of your date today, something that had drawn out longer than you thought it would. You frowned, fingers drumming on the side of your phone as you pondered on what to reply.

You had promised to help with the food yet here you are, out of town and on a picnic date inside a garden observatory.

“Who is it?” Guwon asks, seeing the frown on your face. Your mind immediately picks up the odd tone he has.

“Their oldest, Jin. We're supposed to cook together before the rest comes home.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I thought the birthday was tomorrow?”

“Oh, we're planning a small party before it, just his closest friends.”

Guwon nodded, eyes distant and thoughtful as he took a bite of his sandwich before continuing. “What time are you expected?”

“Their eldest said he'll pick me up at six.”

He looked at his watch and frowned deeper. “It's already 5:30. Maybe I can drive you to their dorm instead?”

You immediately shook your head. Remembering the promise you had with Jin and Jungkook. The maknae had recently begun to look at your direction again yesterday after Hoseok had talked to him, inviting Guwon would ruin the smallest progress you’ve had.

Not to mention, you can't reveal their dorm location even if he is to be your husband. Company rules and you've signed an NDA.

“Company rules, can't reveal their location.”

“If we're going to be a couple soon, I'm going to need to know more about these guys you're hanging around. I don't trust them.” He says as he turns to the picnic basket to take another sandwich out, unable to see the twitch in your eye.

“Well, you have to learn how to, they’re my bosses and my best friends.”

“I’m having a hard time believing that. I mean,” He scoffed. “Did you notice how they look at me whenever I’m around? That rapper—Yun–Yoonmi stared at me like I’m an insect he stepped on.”

Anger boils deep within your soul and you’re sure it's visibly contorting your face at this point but the man didn’t notice it and continued chewing on his food.

“Besides, their location is pretty well known already, no? Just a couple searches away, why be so secretive about it?”

You refrain yourself from frowning and it takes all of the energy within you to not react as wildly as you would’ve. It was amazing how the illusion of something good could shatter with only a few words and you set down the sandwich in your hand.

There's something terribly humbling upon realization that the man you're talking to is indeed, a man.

Noticing the shift in the air, he set down his cup of coffee with a slight raise to his brows.

“Why are you looking at me like that? It's true though, I just think it's pointless to try to hide it when some people already know, so what's the use of trying to hide their dorm?”

Where's Jimin and Taehyung at times like this?

You dreaded the conversation you're about to bring up to your mother once she calls, and could hear her scolding you for having such high standards. Guwon being indifferent to the possibility of being stalked, and your boys’ privacy being breached immediately raise red glaring flags over his head.

A lawyer himself who shrugged at the threat of crimes, the joke just writes itself.

“Don't look at me like that, I'm just… trying to understand why you didn't want me to interact with them after our second date. It makes a man overthink, know?”

Whatever thread you were holding onto, a sliver of hope that you might've misheard or misunderstood him, decayed within you and you picked up your phone to stuff into your bag.

You had hoped, wished, that after your deep talk on the night Seokjin had scolded your ass to the nines he'd understand your dynamic better with the boys or at least try. You could already hear Yoongi's drawl out ‘I told you so’ as you packed up, even imagine him bringing up Namjoon’s statistical analysis and how I should've listened to it.

“If you're implying what I think you are implying then I don't think we should meet each other anymore.”

Tossing the food back into the basket carelessly, you slung your bag over your shoulder and stand, only for his hand to shoot out to grab your wrist in an iron grip.

“Wait, I-I'm sorry! I just got… jealous, that's all.”

Even with the apologetic look displayed clearly on his face and the fear swimming with them, nothing could bring back to life the trust you had on the man and you pushed his hand away.

“I can't stay with someone who can't understand why those boys are important to me, sorry Guwon but we're over. Don't you ever contact me again.”

“You can't possibly be breaking up with me because I said what I felt? Over them? Really?!”

You don't even recognize the man sitting opposite you.

He knew, he saw how close you are with them and even sat through the stories you told him during your dates. Guwon knew you cherished every single boy in the group yet he disregarded it all because of jealousy? If that isn't a warning, then you might be blind.

“It's like I never even knew you at all.”

He scoffed. “Same with you. Can't believe I actually believed your words telling me you were friends but I saw how those boys treated you!”

Sure your relationship with your bosses is unusual but it was built from hardship and loneliness from being taken away from home and surrendering their time for a glimpse of fame in a field where they're at a huge disadvantage. It was special in ways not many could fathom because in their head, what reason would there be for a man to befriend a girl other than having the intention to fuck them?

It was the mindset of the old and “ wise” and it had infuriated you to the nines.

For him to reveal himself as one of those old cogs when he expressed himself as a gentleman and be convinced by his act of kindness, even the word disappointing could express how greatly upset you are.

“Bet you've slept with all of them at least once, hell, I don't even know why your mother bothered when you're already busy whoring yourself for seven men.”

Anger flooded your veins, it was hot and rampaging under your skin. Before your mind could even register your actions, your hand had already moved, making contact with his cheek in one swift motion. The slap echoed like a clap of thunder in the silence of the observatory.

Even after seeing the angry red mark beginning to mar his skin, your anger remained.

“Goodbye Guwon, I hope we never see each other again.”

Walking away was easier said than done.

You got picked up by Guwon earlier and since you've run far enough from the indoor garden, away from your supposed ticket back home, you're now waiting for an uber at a small library sequestered between towering and loudly designed buildings. You had half a mind to ask your friends that lived nearby for a ride but decided against it.

They might be busy with their own family.

Unlike you.

As you sit there waiting for your ride to come, your mind takes you to your mother and her genuine glee at the thought of you getting married. Ever since your second date, she had been sending you photographs of weddings for inspirations, links to event places and tailors, and flower shops where you could have your bouquet arranged. She was beyond ecstatic, if she heard what had happened, she would be devastated.

A loud, exasperated sigh left your lips, the volume catching the attention of the bookkeeper who was quick to shush you.

As you waited longer with only the deafening silence of the library to accompany you, doubt began to form at the back of your head.

Was breaking up with Guwon really the right choice?

An angry, louder voice screamed at you for doubling down on your decision. You knew your boys longer than you knew him, if the trip had gone through, Guwon would've proposed to you despite the short time you've known each other. Something you didn't want. Not to mention, he would've gone through the idea while contemplating on your loyalty.

So yes, it was the right decision!

But you were to be married .

Your mother was so happy to have finally matched you with a guy you attended three dates with. The thought made your heart clench, she was excited to see you on the altar and has most likely spread it around your town with pride. She was about to have three married children.

Gods, you don't want to imagine the conversation later on, she'd be distraught.

Your phone buzzed and you dreaded looking at the screen to see your mother's name. Luckily, it was Jin instead.

[18:01] Jinnie: where are you? [18:01] Jinnie: knocked on your door but the neighbor said you were out. [18:02] Jinnie: you're late😒 [18:02] Jinnie: I'm going to have them deduct your pay this month for making me wait [18:03] You: I'm sorry your highness for disappointing you, please forgive this servant of yours🤧 [18:03] You: was on a date [18:03] You: not that it matters anymore, I broke up with Guwon [18:04] You: does it even count? I mean, we weren't official, he didn't ask me to be his girlfriend yet.

You paused, face souring as you realized what you've just typed.

Guwon hadn't asked for your hand officially even after three dates, he had the chance on your second date during the stroll but he didn't. Despite this, he went and asked your parents for their blessings when he hadn't even asked you first.

[18:04] You: wow I just remembered that [18:04] You: then he had the audacity to propose to me!

There's a pause in between his usually instant replies and you had an inkling he's already spreading the gossip around the group somehow.

[18:08] Jinnie: wow there's a LOT to unpack there [18:08] Jinnie: but worry not [18:08] Jinnie: I'll have Jimin get us the strongest drink there is for later [18:09] Jinnie: we'll drink that sorrow away and you're going to tell me what the hell you meant by proposing while not being official [18:10] You: I don't think I should tell you that… [18:10] You: considering… ya know [18:11] You: also don't you guys have an early schedule tomorrow?🤨 [18:12] Jinnie: bold of u to assume I don't want hear how massive of a failure he is [18:12] Jinnie: nothing better than hearing your enemy’s downfall😌 [18:13] Jinnie: also what do you mean ‘you guys’??? [18:13] Jinnie: you're literally our make-up artist!

You scoffed at the message but before you could type up a reply, the notification from your uber app popped out to inform you about your driver now waiting outside the library and you walked out.

[18:23] You: and just because I'm your make-up artist, doesn't mean I should let you all get away with this [18:23] You: and I won't even drink much :pp [18:24] Jinnie : if I ever see you stumbling around the house, you owe me 100000 [18:25] You: WOW [18:25] You: AREN'T YOU RICH ALREADY???? [18:25] Jinnie: money is money😌 [18:26] Jinnie: just get ur ass over here already before I add more zeros to the bet

The smell of Jin’s cooking, both spicy and something savory, welcomed you first before the sound of sizzles did. At the sound of the door closing, Jin appears round the corner with an apron hung from his neck and a tong stained with red bean paste in the other.

Despite the disappointed look he's going for, reminiscent of a mother who caught her daughter coming home past curfew, the relief you feel upon seeing his handsome face after earlier was palpable and the knots in your stomach loosened.

“I should have your pay deducted for showing up late.”

You winced. “Sorry boss, can I appeal for a heartbreak discount on that?”

“Only if you give me a hug and cry on my shoulder.”

He opened his arms wide, plush lips widening into a smile when you approached to wrap your arms around his torso. The fabric of his sweatshirt was soft and the scent of new laundry overtook his usual scent of freshly baked cakes and gentle vanilla perfume, it almost made you boneless in his hold. Moreso when he started stroking your head while the other ran up and down your back with his palm, fingers still wrapped around the tongs.

He didn't pull away despite the awkward position with him bending down and practically melting against your smaller form. In your years of being friends, you could never recall Seokjin being the first to pull away from a hug and once more, you're grateful for that.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“I’ll do it while cooking, we might burn whatever you're cooking if I told you all about it here.”

He shook his head, his rubbing motions on your back turning into gentle pats. “We can just order it online if it does, I even bet that they'll still eat it even if it was. Hoba was relentless today.”

His nails raked through your scalp and you resisted the urge to shiver.

“He was being an ass towards you guys. Then when I defended you all, he accused me of sleeping around.”

His first instinct was to curse the man down to his ancestors who bred with each other until he was born, but stopped himself when he realized what he's about to say and cleared his throat.

If his arms coiled tighter around you, you only leaned into him further.

“Normally I would say "I told you so" but I know Yoongi has it covered later. So I'll just say—"

"Don't you dare. Jin don’t you dare finish that sentence."

"I knew it."

He let out a cry when your hand slapped his arm but it quickly dissolved into a fit of squeaky laughter and he pushed your head back under his chin before you could even continue hitting him. Hand continuing their petting as you let out an annoyed groan.

“My mom was so excited! God. I hate that bastard for disappointing me and her. She was sending me links to wedding planners and dressmakers because apparently he was supposed to take me to Jeju tomorrow and propose.”

He stills in your arms, the hand in your hair stopping its motion as his breath hitched in his chest. It took him a moment before he recollected himself and continued to pat your head, pressing a kiss on top of your crown.

“I'm sure auntie will understand, I know that she would've wanted you to find a good man like she and your sister did.”

A voice at the back of your head told you he was referring to himself but you threw the thought away as soon as it went.

“Personally, I would've taken the ticket and ditch him.” He laughed and you hit his arm with a barely concealed grin. “All I'm saying is that free things should be used and if it's gifted then better! You get to decide how to use it so refund it!”

“I don't think it's that easy.”

“Just say Kim Seokjin of BTS asked for a refund and they'll immediately accept it.”

Pulling away, you playfully rolled your eyes at him, earning you one last laugh as you walked to the kitchen where the sizzles of the food being fried on the pan had long been muted. Jin followed you with an onslaught of words spilling from his lips, justifying and detailing how he would've done in your place as you placed your bag down on the island counter before reaching for the spare apron.

Hearing his rants filling the silence made it easier to relax, made forgetting how upset you were at Guwon a walk in the park.

It was familiar and his voice, despite his fiery indignation, was oddly comforting.

Soon enough, your conversation halts and you both position yourself over the counter, following his orders mindlessly; which is mostly dicing the vegetables and the slabs of meat he marinated last night in soy sauce and spices.

You found the repetitive motions of chopping soothing and silently thanked the man now hovering over the saucepan, gently stirring the seaweed soup.

As if sensing your eyes boring holes on the back of his head, his ears reddened and he looked over his shoulder to meet your gaze.

“W-what is it? Wh-why are you looking at me like that?”

“Just admiring how huge your shoulders are and how reliable you are.”

You recalled how dearly he cared for his group despite the exhaustion from practicing singing and dancing the whole day. Despite being the youngest in his family, Jin took on the mantle of the oldest brother in the group easily and selflessly provided for his members alongside Yoongi and Namjoon. If it were anybody, you were sure the boys would've been sick or had long given up, especially when the company was about to file bankruptcy in their earlier years.

From the bone shattering dances, exhausting practices and routines stretching from dawn till dusk, you were thankful Seokjin was there to catch the others when they fall.

It was a hard task nobody would've assumed since selfishness is a built-in trait of a human yet Seokjin proved you wrong when he stayed up every night despite the muscle cramps and exhaustion weighing his bones to cook for his members, taking the role of the eldest like it was a second nature despite being the youngest in his family.

He barked out a half-hearted laugh as his red ears brightened from the compliment. “I already know that of course!”

“Thank you for everything, Jin.”

His face crumpled when he laughed bashfully, the bright hue in his ears crawling to dusk his cheeks as well. It didn't take long before he recovered and like clockwork, in reaction to being flustered by compliments, he got defensive and raised the saucer threateningly at you.

“Ya! If you're planning to compliment me, at least be original! I'm done hearing about how wide my shoulders are from ARMY and how reliant I am from the others! We've been together for years, do better and be original with your compliments!”

It was a joke, obviously.

But staring at the older man childishly brandishing his cooking utensil like a bludgeoning weapon, you couldn't help but ponder about what truly pulled you into him only to realize that you've never truly dove deeper than surface level details. It was disappointing to find out how shallow you've been when expressing your appreciation for the man.

Like he said, you've always pointed out how reliable he is but never have you pointed out the small things such as the warm food he claimed have been extras and the hot soups sectioned off for you on cold days.

He was the first to approach you on the first day despite being the member who mostly kept to himself, asking you if you wanted to celebrate their Rookie of the Year win with them instead of the rowdy staff behind you.

The first one to build a bridge leading to this deep companionship you had with the rest of the members, have you really never thanked him for that?

“You're so caring and humble despite your background and where you are right now. If it was anybody else, they would've left the boys to fend for themselves once they were able to yet you didn't stop cooking for them, for us. I don't think I have ever met a man so down to earth and as loving as you are,” You paused. “Well, except Jimin but if you want something more original I'd say I love your hands even when you think they're weird because they—”

You didn't even realize Jin crossed the distance between you both until his hands clasped around your lips, silencing you completely.

Unlike earlier with only his ears blushing, his cheeks now glowed red, the flushed skin spreading down to his neck, continuing past the collar of his dark blue pajamas. When your eyes meet, you find his glistening with unshed tears no doubt touched by your hastily put together declaration of your appreciation for him.

When it was clear you wouldn't continue your rant, his arms fell to your shoulders and pulled you into a tight embrace.

His violent heartbeats thudding against his chest was the first thing you've heard before you registered the stuttered exhales and his gentle saccharine scent filling your senses, clouding your brain completely. For a moment, it was just you and him in the kitchen, hugging a little longer than friends should be.

But then again, since when have you guys ever drawn the line on how platonic touches should last?

“God… You gotta stop doing that.”

“I'm just following what you told me like a good dongsaeng and I think I did exceedingly well on it. Does that guarantee a deduction on my pay deduction?”

There's an odd, invisible weight that lifted off of you, something you didn't even realize you were carrying. But there's also a tinge of guilt pinching the edges of your heart.

Jin was the first to approach you, and the first to confess four years ago. He was all shy looks and sweet smiles, his sweet words accompanied by a bouquet of flowers that must've cost him more than he could've gotten from being an idol of a new group.

When Jin loves, he gives his all and doesn't think twice to give half of himself as well. In a way, he and Yoongi were alike, just with different approaches.

He was open and unapologetic while Yoongi was subtle and often silent.

His laugh twinkled in your ears but it dwindled later on, as if he remembered something towards the end of his mirth. “You're driving me crazy, how am I supposed to move on when you're this lovely?”

Hearing him confirm your suspicion about his crush—is it even called that at this point?—relieved you from an unknown anxiety most likely sparked by Jungkook's words a few nights ago. Why are you even relieved hearing him still liking you when all you've done is hurt him?

“You're such an idiot, you know that?”

“Love makes you do the stupidest thing but I don't think I've ever regretted ever falling for you.”

He pulls away, a gentler, softer smile now tugging his lips up.

“God, you made me sappy! My god, my soup!”

Even without the warmth of his embrace, you could feel it radiate in the small space of the kitchen. You continued your work as Jin fuzzed about the seaweed soup behind you, bathing in the domesticity of it all.

Your phone vibrates loudly in your bag on the island counter. Wiping your hand on your apron, you opened it to see Jimin’s messages.

[18:56] Mimi: seokjin hyung told me to buy the strongest alcohol [18:57] Mimi: any idea why he’s being weird? [18:57] You: I’ll tell jin that you called him weird [18:57] You: but yes [18:57] You: I’ll tell you all later why [18:58] Mimi: 🤨 [18:58] Mimi: not if I get you drunk in the first ten minutes [18:58] You: I’d like to see you try, pretty boy

Your phone vibrated again. Namjoon had texted you, seeing the preview you rolled your eyes.

[18:59] Joonie: Seokjin hyung didn’t say but I already figured it out [18:59] Joonie: You'd hear enough from Yoongi hyung later but [18:58] Joonie: I told you so [18:58] You: I hope you trip and fall on shit🥰 [18:59] Joonie: Love you too, noona😁 [18:59] You: blocked🚫

“I'm not seeing enough chopping, young lady. Get back to your station!” Jin jokingly scolds. With a laugh, you return to your spot.

By the time some of the boys arrived—except Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung, no doubt pre-gaming somewhere—it was already ten and some of the dishes were plated, ready to be eaten in the dining room. If it wasn't for both your and Jin's advanced thinking to ready the bowl of rice and their plates beforehand, they would have starved to death as Yoongi dramatically puts it before blaming Hoseok for draining them out the whole day.

The man in question just laughed in response before shrugging and rebuking their ‘accusations’, saying it wasn't even that hard. To this, Yoongi grumbled under his breath and Namjoon rolled his eyes.

A few minutes later, the maknaes entered, cheeks all flushed except for Jimin who was holding up a bag full of canned alcohol as if it was game from an all-day hunt.

You thanked Jimin silently for drinking the birthday boy tipsy enough to make the dinner energetic instead of the awkwardness you thought it'd be due to what happened a few days ago. There's fleeting eyes you've caught in between jokes he made, either pouring with adoration or longing, you tried to not to pay it much mind.

But of course, the alcohol pouring could only go for so long before you're all lounging in the living room to talk about anything that comes to mind. It was half an hour short from the clock tickling to twelve, signifying Jungkook's actual birthday.

The conversation started off tame with Taehyung questioning the animals who sleep standing to something more elaborate with Yoongi asking everyone's opinion about some decrypt conspiracy theory surrounding the rich of the west. It was all fun and games when Taehyung, lost in his own mind running with the most random thought, sluggishly pointed at you and asked:

“Wh-why aren't you checking your phone? G-Guwon hyung haven't been texting you yet?”

Many heads turned to you who was practically boneless in between a tipsy Hoseok and a still sober Yoongi. You didn't even need to look to know the look of concern Jin was throwing your way.

But everything was hazy, your head throbbing from the alcohol. The words slipped past your lips before you could think about it.

“We parted ways… He accused me of sleeping around when I said I didn't want to go on a trip with him tomorrow ‘cause I didn't want to skip Jungkookie's birthday.”

Hoseok patted your shoulder and Yoongi nodded, face indifferent as usual. Despite the reaction of the boys on both sides, not everyone in the circle held the same opinion it seems.

“You didn't have to decline it, noona. You-you’ve been with us for years, missing one wouldn't hurt me much.”

Jungkook's voice was softer as if he had sobered up from the revelation and you waved him away.

“What are you saying? I couldn't leave when we weren't alright.” You glimpsed at Jin before continuing. “Besides, he was planning to propose and I'm glad he couldn't anymore.”

In your drunken mind, the information didn't carry much weight but the pin drop silence following your words did, you guessed that it must've been. However, it didn't last long when Taehyung jumped up to his feet and punched the air as if Korea just scored the final score in FIFA.

The boys look at him with wide eyes, shocked by his reaction. Jimin recovers and tries to tug him down but a drunk Taehyung is determined, with a will stronger than a monk's resilience and patience, no one could stop him from doing what he wanted.

And that was bumping his glass on your forehead, a little harder than it should've been if he was sober and you reel back, a hand over your forehead.

“Noona! you're free again! Do you know what that means?!”

“Ok that's enough for you tonight. Let's get you to bed.” Jimin says, chuckling awkwardly as he stands behind his best friend, wrapping his arms around his waist before dragging him away.

“Why? Can't I just congratulate noona from recognizing something was off instead of ignoring it like most do? Noona,” He turned to you, bottom lip jutted out. “It's not bad that I'm celebrating right?”

Seokjin’s laugh was nervous when he rose to usher the man away as well. “Alright, lets all calm down so we don't accidentally say something while drunk.”

“Fuck yeah! I-I don’t even know why I even believed his lies, he’s a lawyer for fucks sake!”

“Not that it ever stopped you before. I still don't understand why you couldn't have married one of us instead.” Jungkook cuts in, suddenly irritated.

Somehow, the tension in the room grew tenfold and everyone sits up, alert and ready to interfere if their youngest decides to let the alcohol take control of him. Your brain clears once it registered the annoyance in his voice, heart dropping to the soles of your feet.

“Jungkook—”

“I just think it's a bullshit excuse and you know it. You told that to Jin-hyung four years ago and have repeated it ever since. We’re all adults now, we can handle a little rejection and who’s to say we can’t date when we’re the only idol running the company. You say it's because you don’t want to choose but aren’t you just instilling false hope in us?”

He stood as he grew more agitated but Jin pushed him down, eyes stern as he stared down at their youngest. Seeing the conflict brew between them, the growing guilt built by years of spending time with them reawakened.

It tied your stomach in a knot and felt like a building had dropped onto your heart.

As if sensing your emotions, Yoongi’s hand found your shoulder to give it a squeeze.

“You’re not thinking straight so stop it,” Jin excuses as he turns to you with an apologetic smile. “He’s just drunk, he doesn’t—”

“I know what I’m saying and I think you’re being too biased here hyung!”

“Jungkook…” Hoseok calls from next to you, voice low, a warning.

“You too! She’s also your friend, why aren’t you pointing out how she’s just playing with us? Why are you only calling me out?”

“Because you’re being a stupid drunk right now, Jungkook. Stand down .” Yoongi ordered, voice firm and warning. His arms are crossed as he stared their youngest down but the maknae wasn’t intimidated by it, if anything, the fire in the older man’s eyes only fueled the anger boiling within him.

In years you’ve watched over them, never once has Yoongi scolded their youngest past Run BTS contents, leaving the reprimanding to their oldest and leader. For him to call him out and seeing them grow agitated by each other’s presence, dread loomed over you with your nightmares threatening to come true.

This isn’t how tonight’s party was supposed to go.

“Isn’t there anyone who’d agree with me at how absurd all of this is?!” His head snapped at Namjoon who’s watching with a careful eye. “Hyung, surely you can also see it!”

Throughout the exchange, Namjoon had sat back and watched the interaction from the sidelines instead of interfering on the first hint of a fight breaking out. Even when the situation becomes a little aggressive, he stays silent but you don’t doubt that he’d be the first to stand if the disagreement becomes volatile and inching towards physical.

That's what he always has done, observed and let the high rise of emotions eventually tides down to a calm on their own. He's a leader, he's supposed to be fair and to do so, he must first understand both sides before taking action. He also trusts his own team to temper their own ire after years of being together.

But now that he's forced to join the argument, he sighed and stood. Seokjin stepped away as he approached their youngest with both hands placed on his shoulders to sit him back down.

Obediently, Jungkook follows.

“While I do see where you’re coming from, I think it's a bit unfair that you’re blaming her for being scared.” Jungkook opens his mouth but a firm shake of Namjoon’s head shuts him up. “Don’t start again. There’s a power imbalance here kid. If her choosing someone could cause a problem, we’d get off scot free but not her. In the eyes of the company, she’s disposable—”

“But she’s not.”

“She is. In their eyes at least. By having her around causing problems for us, she’s nothing but a thorn in their side that they should remove. If she had dated one of us and eventually broke up, it would cause an awkwardness and riff between guys especially if it ended on a bad note and BigHit won't stand for it. You know how important this job is for her, right?”

They stared at each other for a long while, both unrelenting in silence. You all waited with bated breath, Namjoon was the only one who could diffuse the situation and if he fails, then who else could possibly calm the maknae down?

Turning to the clock, you bit your lip at the time.

It was nearing Jungkook's actual birthday, three minutes short before both hands ticked to twelve.

Which meant it would have to start during the denouement of an argument. The thought planting discomfort in your stomach. Such a happy celebration shouldn't be welcomed like this.

In the midst of raised voices and pointing fingers, Taehyung has completely sobered up from where he sat between Jimin’s thighs, staring beady eyed at the situation in his friend’s arms. Sensing your gaze, he turned to you with a sheepish, apologetic smile when Jungkook's heavy sigh broke through the silence.

His head fell to his chest as Namjoon removed his hands from his shoulders yet his eyes remained on their youngest’s hunched form.

“You get what we're trying to say now, do you?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Anything you want to say, gguk?” Namjoon was talking to him like he was a kindergarten teacher and you both were kids who fought on the sandbox for the shovel, warm and understanding but the disappointment in his tone is clear as day.

Jungkook doesn't reply but he shoots up to his feet, surprising Hoseok next to you, with eyes still trained on the floor.

When he did look up to meet your gaze, it was brief and cut off by a deep bow. You reached your hands out, trying to stop him from doing so but Yoongi took one of your hands and pinned them down between his and your thighs.

Jungkook never had to bow for you and it felt wrong seeing him bent down to apologize.

“I-I’m sorry noona, I—” He trails off.

In his speechlessness in a room full of people who—while understanding where he comes from—stood behind you, he clams up and then in a flash, he’s gone, bolting from the living room and skipping up the stairs. The sound of his heavy footfalls echoing like the clock ticking down to his birthday.

The argument has been dissolved, yet it left a bitter taste on your tongue, it made you feel queasy having everyone back you up without reprimanding you as well. It was true, what Jungkook said.

Weren't you practically leading them on by not choosing anyone? No matter how unintentional it must be, if he thinks that way then maybe everyone else in the group does, just silently.

You turned to the clock again. A minute closer to the next day.

Frustration made you want to pull your hair out but the long, lithe fingers that have entangled with yours in the middle of it all, forbade you from doing so. As if he could hear the internal debate between logic and emotions, Yoongi gave you a comforting squeeze.

But it didn't feel right, you shouldn't be sitting on your ass while Jungkook blamed himself for expressing his own opinion, sure it was a bit aggressive but you understood his frustration.

“Jungkook!” You called out, rising to your feet to follow him when Yoongi tightened his hold on your wrist and shook his head.

“He needs time to process, leave him be.”

Yet despite this, you shrugged his hold off and followed the youngest’s heavy footfalls upstairs and presumably into his room. You caught onto him in the hallway, with the door to his room opened and half of his body already inside.

“Jungkook, let us talk.”

“I-I don't want to see you right now, noona please.”

The desperation to correct the wrongs gives you a short burst of energy and you catch his wrist.

“Jungkook please, I—”

You heard the joyful chime of the clock downstairs before you heard the sweet jingles of bells.

Then you felt it.

Electric jolts shoot up from your connected hands, waking every cell and your mind awake and you almost keel over from the wave of relieving warmth washing over your body. There’s now a low hum accompanying the bells chiming in the background, the soft harmony between them sending shivers down your spine.

You've thought of first meetings like those scenes in Hollywood movies where a kaleidoscope of colors explodes behind your eyelids, like fireworks celebrating the precious moment where the protagonists finally meet and fireworks shoot up to the sky. They talked of a brief moment of reprieve from reality, the world slowing down and feeling the most calmed you've ever been with your soulmate in hand.

Like your soul finally recognizing its pair and suddenly, everyone became a blur in the background.

Yet when you stared back at Jungkook's mirrored astonishment, your stomach bottomed out.

Because no way in hell, after all this time, you're soulmates.

531 notes · View notes

ratskinsuit · 10 months ago

Text

•𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭•

Hazbin Hotel Lucifer Morningstar x gn!Reader

———————————————————————

“Lucifer has been very stressed lately due to all of the work being piled onto him, the things going on in heaven, and Charlie’s hotel idea. So as his loving partner, you decide to help him destress a little bit in a very fun way.”

Tags: Smut, Oral sex, Lucifers little whimpers, exhibitionism? , Dom!Reader (Kind of), Sub!Lucifer, x Reader, Office blow jobs

MDNI

(Please enjoy this fanfic, it may not be the best because I haven’t written smut before, criticism is welcome.)

———————————————————————

You have noticed that recently your husband, Lucifer, has been more stressed than usual. He has been neglecting his needs, locking himself in his room and burying himself in his work. He hasn’t been eating as much and he has bags under his eyes. You rarely see him out of his office, never seeing him at any meals.

So you decided that you would go and try to convince him to take a break. You made him some tea and something for him to eat, a grilled cheese, some warm tomato soup, and some freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. After gathering all of the food on a tray, you head off to his office. Once you reach the office you put the tray in one hand and knock on the door three times.

“Come in.” You hear his tired voice say from the other side of the door.

You grasp the door knob and with a hum push it open and step inside, closing the door behind you.

At his desk Lucifer looks wrecked. He is sitting in his dress pants and a dress shirt, wrinkled and messed up, his sleeves pulled up to his biceps. His face furrowed in concentration, his eyes slightly bloodshot, with bags under his eyes. One of his hands is in his hands in his hair, gripping it tightly between his fingers in frustration, his bling licks messy.

He looks up as you enter and smiles tiredly. “Ah hello my love, do you need something?” He asks, sitting up straighter and trying to fix his shirt to not worry you.

You hum and bring over the tray setting it on his desk. “Well I know how stressed you have been lately, so I brought you some lunch and tea.” You say, setting his food out for him.

He gives you another smile, hey this time Warmer. “Oh thank you so much hunny, I completely forgot about eating.” He says, taking a sip from the tea and sighing.

You smile at him, and go behind the desk, stroking his hair with one hand, and the other rests in his shoulder, his face softening as you play with his messy locks, a most comfortable look now on his face.

“You really should take a break you know, all this stress isn’t good for you.” You say, and in response he lets out another sigh. “Well I can’t just take a break whenever I want, I mean I have duties hunny, I can’t just abandon them.”

“Are you sure? Not even just a tiny break?” You try to reason, your hand continuously petting his hair, and the other massaging his shoulder, trying to convince him. It seems to be working a bit, as he relaxes into the chair his eyes half lidded, yet his stubbornness still prominent.

“I don’t know…” He murmurs, rolling his arms as you massage them.

You pout, taking your hands off of him, causing him to whine a bit. You think for a moment, before an idea comes to you, a mischievous smirk making its way onto your face.

He notices it immediately and gives you a questioning look. “What are you thinking about hun?”

”Well how about I give you a little stress reliever while you work, hm?” You say, and before he can say anything getting on your knees and crawling under the desk.

“W-wait hunny what are you doing..? We can’t do this, s-someone might walk in, and- and I have to…” He trails off with a whimper as you begin to unzip his pants.

“Just keep quiet and keep doing your work and nobody will know.” You say with a wink, as you take out his red, already leaking cock.

He stares down at you before resting his arms on his desk, and whimpering, already breathing noticeably harder, even though you haven’t even touched him yet.

You stroke him a couple couple times. “Go on handsome, keep doing your work.” You say teasingly, and he whines a bit, grabbing his pen and trying to resume reading and signing.

You move your head closer to the head of his throbbing member, giving him a few kitten licks causing him to jolt,

“D-dear I don’t think I can do m… my work like this…” He say quietly, looking at you with a pleasing look on his face.

You ignore it, giving him a quick smirk as you begin to lick all around the shaft, starting from the base and moving up, earning you a groan from the man above.

You suck on the tip, swirling it around in your mouth with your tongue.

“F-..fuck darling ple- agh.. please stop teasing me…” Lucifer whimpers, squirming in his seat, panting harder now.

You continue to ignore it, your your tongue pressing against the slit, a loud moan rumbling above you.

You glance up to see your husband looking worse than before, his cheeks red, eyes watery, and hair somehow even worse than before. “My lah… love please…” He begs, more tears welling up in his eyes.

You decide to give him a break, and slowly start taking him into your mouth, going deeper down his shaft as he lets out a moan.

“Oh h-hell please p-p-lease oh agh… hng…” He moans, and squirms, obviously very pent up. He tries to thrust up into your mouth but you place my hands in his thighs, digging your nails into them, pulling an unhappy whine.

Once you reach the base you begin bobbing up and down, your tongue massaging his shaft.

“Oh h-hu- d-darling… please, I- Hng… I… hah.. fuck.. please..” Lucifer squirms and and moans loudly above you, one hand tangled in his hair, the other on the desk, breathing heavily, his eyes closed in pleasure, cheeks flushed.

With one of your hands you massage the inside of his thigh, causing him to get louder. “Please, I want- darling- m-mmm, nhg… please.. wanna, I need to- fuck…gonna- g’nna c-“ He babbles above you, barely able to make sentences, yet you can tell his close.

While you desperately want to tease him you decide against it, knowing he would probably break down with how stressed he already is.

You begin to suck and bob faster, you husband whining and pleading above you, you determainef to make his reach his peak.

“W-a- agh.. c-come.. fuck, gonna HNG, d-arling oh s-sa- Ang..” A few moment later mr moans out and releases, you swallow it all down, riding him through his orgasm until he is overstimulated and trying to get away.

You release him with a pop, standing up and wiping your mouth. Lucifer looks 10x worse than before, his hair sweaty and sticking out in all different ways, his face flushed red, his eyes half lidded and teary, still shaking from the aftershocks.

Despite this you give him a kiss on the forehead and a pat on the head. “I expect to see you at dinner tonight.” You say, before leaving.

———————————————————————

Well there is my first ever smut fic, and first fic in years! Criticism is accepted. Hope you enjoyed!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

#hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #smut #tw:smut #he is such a bottom lmao #lucifer mange x reader #lucifer Morningstar x reader #lucifer smut #lucifer magne x reader smut #lucifer Morningstar x reader smut #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader smut #hazbin hotel x reader #poor bby so stressed

1K notes · View notes

thewritingrowlet · 5 months ago

Text

The Loving Wife, ft. Red Velvet Irene

tags: creampie, anal (I think it counts), throatfuck, cum-in-mouth, daddy kink

word count: ~3k

author's note: surprise, mothertruckers

You lean back in your big chair as exhaustion finally settles on your mind and body. You look through the tall glass behind you, “oh, it’s dark already—what time is it?”. You flip your phone on its back and tap the screen twice. “Oh, it’s almost 10”, you murmur, “Irene will kill me”. Irene? The smiling woman on your lock screen? Are you sure?

You’re not sure, but you’re not in the mood to fuck around and find out—not after spending the whole day away from her, making her go through her day by herself. “I’m coming, love; please wait a moment”, you say to your phone, the picture a representation of her being.

It’s nothing but a moment for you, as you find yourself stuck in the sea of cars. “Where are these fools going?”, you wonder. Well, “these fools” are trying to get to their safe havens, just like you are. “These fools” are trying to unwind after working their asses off to provide for them and theirs, just like you are. “These fools” are trying to go to the harbor where their hearts are anchored, just like you are. You chuckle as you think about it, “I guess we’re more alike than we know”.

A wave of joy washes over you when you see the black Genesis sedan parked in front of your house. You resist the urge to just stop the car right here as the acute avidness to see your cherished wife is mighty. You park your car in the driveway next to her car and jump out right away.

“I’m home”, you say softly as you turn the handle of your front door. That is correct: you are indeed home. This is the safe haven that you’ve worked hard for and saved up for so that you and your wife have somewhere to unwind after spending long days at work—this is the harbor where your heart is anchored.

You see a lady draped in white run towards you, and another wave of joy washes over you. “My love” is all the greetings you can come up with, as the sight of her takes your breaths away, no matter how frequent you see it. Irene wraps her arms around your frame, fighting your cold with her warmth. There are plenty of sounds you find to be enjoyable, but your lady’s sob is not one of them. “Where have you been? I was so worried about you, honey”, she asks tearily. You put your lips on her forehead to soothe her, “I’m so sorry, my love; I was neck deep in work that I lost track of time”.

You know that you can’t offer comfort when standing up, so you lift her up by her thighs and take her to sit on the sofa. You pet her softly in the back of the head as she sobs to her heart’s content. She finally falls silent after a few minutes and hums softly in rhythm, imitating a cat’s purr. “Feeling better, love?”, you say to her. “Y-yes”, Irene says, “I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to be burdensome to you—I-I’m sure you’re tired, and-and I wasn’t being helpful”. You peck her cheeks thrice, just like how she likes it, “I’m sorry for coming home so late, love; I had so much work to do”. Irene returns the pecks to you, “thank you for working so hard all the time”.

You lay down on the sofa for a cuddle, and you hear Irene’s stomach rumble faintly. “You haven’t had dinner, love?”, you ask her. “We-we were supposed to eat out, r-remember?”, she says. You punch yourself internally as the memory returns to you, “I’m so sorry, love”. Irene used to voice her disappointment whenever you forgot about something, but she ditched that habit when you two got married. “We have sliced beef in the fridge, don’t we? I’ll make us something if you’ll let me go”, you say to her. Irene reluctantly unwraps her limbs from your body, seemingly sad about not touching you.

You open the fridge and grab half an onion and some sliced beef and put them on the counter next to the stove. You throw some minced garlic into a preheated nonstick pan that already has a bit of oil in it and wait until the fragrance fills the kitchen. Since Irene doesn’t really like onion, you cut the onion in half again, only using a quarter of it. You throw the onion—chopped largely so that Irene can avoid it easily—into the pan and cook it down until it’s soft. You look over your shoulder and see that Irene is still on the sofa, presumably asleep. “I hope this meal can convey how much I love you, my dear Irene”, you say to yourself as you dump sliced beef and sauces into the pan.

You put the food on a large plate and reheat some leftover rice in the microwave. You walk to the sofa and take a knee in front of the sleeping beauty. “Irene, my love”, you poke her forearm gently, “let’s eat, baby”. Irene wakes up slowly from her peace, “carry me, love”. You carry Irene on your back and take her to the dining table, and the overwhelming smell wakes her up entirely. “Wow, that looks so good, love!”, she gasps in excitement, “I want to eat! I want to eat!”. You silence the beeping microwave and take the rice out of it. You take a seat in front of your wife as she starts eating excitedly. “Oh my fucking God, that’s so fucking good”, she says. “Love, what did I tell you? Save the profanity for when we’re in bed”, you scold her. “Well, bed is where we will be after this”, she murmurs, not loud enough for you to hear.

You wash the dirty plates and pan after finishing the very late dinner with Irene. Irene stays silent as you do, which is curious, because she usually praises your cooking endlessly while she waits for you. “Did you like it, love?”, you ask her as you’re walking towards her. In your head, you expect Irene to say that she did like it—love it, even—but she says something else. “Daddy”, Irene bites her lip sexily, “I want my dessert”. You know what she means by that, and so does your cock. “You better earn it, then”, you say as you carry her to the bedroom.

Irene shakes herself off your arms and starts kissing you in arousal. She even goes as far as invading the space in your mouth with her tongue. The fact that she’s the one doing all this and is the first to break the kiss is funny—Irene can’t even keep up with herself. “Dad-daddy—fuck”, Irene struggles to breathe, “plea-please, I-I need you—I need my husband’s big cock”. You sit on the edge of the bed and rouse her, “I’ve always told you to work for it if you want something, so come and work for it”.

Irene kneels in front of you and frees your cock from your trousers and boxers. “I can’t live without—”, you cut her off by forcing your cock into Irene’s mouth. These fools only call Irene a cold person because of her front; everything about Irene is anything but cold, take her mouth for example. “Stop talking, start doing”, you command. Irene’s gags sound incredibly hot, and you’re desperate to hear it right now. There’s only one way to achieve that, and that is by fucking her mouth hard. You hold her head with both hands and bounce her on your cock. You feel the tip of your cock reach the back of her mouth, and Irene starts making the gagging sound that you love. “That’s my good wife”, you groan, “fuck, that’s so fucking good”.

You mercilessly fuck Irene’s mouth, sometimes stopping to make sure you don’t hurt her too much—with what you have in mind, however, her voice is guaranteed to disappear after the night ends. “Fuck, I’m getting close”, you announce. Irene looks at you and winks, and you can hear her telling you to cum in her mouth. Once you feel that your cum has accumulated on the tip of your cock, you plug your cock deep in Irene’s mouth and blow your load with a deep groan. You let her head go and Irene pulls away from your cock. She pokes your knee to get your attention. “Yeah, baby?”, you ask, and Irene swallows your cum in one gulp in front of your eyes.

“I—hah, holy fuck—I hope we’re not done”, she says. You shake your head, “we’re far from done, honey—strip, please”. As much as you like seeing Irene in a shirt, it’s not comparable to Irene in nothing. Irene starts her ritual by tying her hair in a bun and biting her lip—she’s making it really hard for you to resist the urge to just rip her clothes off. She reaches for the buttons on her shirt and undoes them one by one, letting the shirt drop to the floor after. “If you’re trying to tease me right now, sweetie, it’s working”, you admit your defeat, “I want to fuck you so bad right now”. She walks towards you after taking off her trousers, “and I want to get fucked by you so bad right now, daddy”.

You tell her to sit on the bed while you leave to get something to cover her eyes with. “I hope you’re down for something naughty, baby”, you say as you show her a silk blindfold. “I was expecting you to have me do the work because you were tired”, she says as she puts on the blindfold herself, “let’s get naughty, daddy”. You help her move to the center of the bed, and since Irene can’t see through the black silk, she doesn’t know that you’re grabbing more silk cloths to tie her limbs with.

“Daddy, where are you?”, Irene sniffs around the bedroom, trying to pick up your scent. You softly rub her cheeks with your thumb, “I’m here, love”. She blindly grabs your hand and guides it to her pussy, “I’m so wet for you, daddy”. You play with the nub of Irene’s pussy with your middle finger, “how bad do you want daddy, hm?”. Irene squirms around as your finger keeps stimulating her, “ahng, ngh, fuck, daddy—I-I need you so fucking bad. Please, daddy, I’m begging you”. You stop fiddling with her clit, “do you trust me, love?”. Irene nods to your question, “I-I’m sure daddy will take care of me”. You peck her lips before tying her hands together. “Next time I tell you to strip, I want you to take everything off—but it’s okay, I forgive you this time”, you say as you unlatch her bra and pull her panties down. Irene whimpers softly as her arousal peaks, “daddy, daddy—ngh, fuck—punish me, daddy; I’ve been naughty”.

You flip Irene onto her stomach and lift her waist up. “Ask nicely, love”, you say to her, your cock hard as rock. “Please-please-please—OH, FUCK”, Irene screams when you put the tip of your cock in her ass, “daddy, it hurts—it hurts so much”. The only thing coating your cock is her spit from the blowjob earlier, “you asked me to punish you, so this is your punishment”. You know that Irene will say the safe word if she wants to stop, so for now, you keep moving forward until your cock is fully lodged in her rear. As you keep fucking her ass, however, Irene lets out screams of pain that sound genuine. You’ve done anal with Irene before, but considering that she wasn’t prepared for this today, you feel bad for doing this, so you retreat from her ass.

You lay Irene on her back and take off her blindfold. “I’m so sorry, baby”, you apologize to your sobbing wife, “that must’ve hurt so bad, right?”. Irene shakes her head, “y-your pleasure comes first, daddy; I-I’ll do whatever you want me to”. You free her wrists so that you can cuddle her properly. “There’s no need for that, love. I’m not more important than you”, you spray kisses on her face, “I’m sorry for acting without consent”. Irene takes off her bra that has been hanging loosely on her arms and throws it away, “c-can we have vanilla now, daddy? I-I can do the work”.

You grant her request and lie down flat on the bed, giving Irene the chance to do whatever she wants. Irene lines up her pussy with your cock and goes down on it until she reaches the base, letting out a long moan as she goes. “I’m so glad I’m married to you”, she says, “ah, ngh—your cock makes me so fucking happy, daddy”. You palm her soft tits that are bouncing in front of your eyes, “I’m glad I’m married to you as well, love—God, fuck, you’re so tight”. Irene plants her hands on your chest and starts fucking herself with your cock, “ah, ah, ah—I-I will always be tight for you, daddy”. If you were to rank the top 3 sounds Irene makes, the order would be her moans, her gags, and then finally her laughs—her moans are simply angelic and deserve the top spot.

Irene keeps bouncing herself rapidly on your cock as she’s more comfortable taking you in the pussy than in the ass. “Daddy, would you let me cum? Please let me cum, daddy”, she begs. You tell her to cum whenever she wants, “you’ve earned it, baby; you’ve been so good”. Irene screams and trembles as she cums, and you feel her pussy squeezing your cock. “Daddy, daddy”, she falls limp on your body, “thank you—ah, fuck—thank you so much”.

You let Irene catch her breath as you whisper praises and affirmations into her ears. “Can I mark you, daddy? I want to show people that you’re mine”, she says. You chuckle, “the ring on my finger already does that, love—but sure, mark me if you want to”. Irene latches her mouth on the side of your neck, kissing and nibbling it to plant her hickeys on your skin. You’re usually the one doing the marking, so you never knew that getting kisses and nibbles in the neck feels this good. “Love, I like having your lips on my neck”, you say. Irene doesn’t say anything and keeps focusing on applying her love mark on you. “That should be enough”, Irene straightens her back, “your turn to mark me now”. She slaps your hands away when you reach your arms out towards her. “No, no, mark me from the inside”, she points at her pussy, “you haven’t cum yet, so give me your cum, please”.

You roll over and get on top of Irene, “you want my cum in your pussy, love?”. “Breed me, daddy”, she rubs your cheeks softly, “I’m so fucking fertile today”. You look at Irene in the eyes, “are you sure? You have a career to chase, love”. Irene rolls her eyes in annoyance, “fine, you’re right; I’ll take the morning after pill then”.

Seeing that you’ve come to an agreement, you start thrusting into her warm core. You’re instantly reminded of how tight she is. “Fuck, love, I don’t think I can last long”, you say, hoping that it won’t disappoint her. “Th-that’s okay, daddy; I won’t last long either”, Irene replies. You guide Irene’s hand towards her pussy, indirectly telling her to touch herself as you’re fucking her.

The two of you are busy with your own tasks: Irene is touching herself and you’re fucking her balls deep. “Ah, ah, I-I think you hit my cervix”, she says between moans, “are you sure you don’t want to breed me, daddy?”. She places your hand on her stomach, “just imagine, daddy; my tummy would start getting bigger and bigger, and I’d be so fucking horny all the time that I’d cum just by humping your thighs”. “What—fuck—what about your career, love?”, you ask, still doubtful about this whole pregnancy thing. Irene moans loudly as she feels the increased pace, “I-I’ll gladly throw it away as long as I get to please you every day”.

You’re still not entirely sold on the idea, but her words make you so damn aroused. You hug her tightly and continue fucking her—you can hear your orgasm knocking at the door. “Babe, I’m cumming”, you announce to her, and Irene tells you that she is about to cum as well. You grit your teeth and release your load deep into her pussy, possibly sending it straight to her cervix. At the same time, Irene shakes as she rides the high of orgasm. You reject her request to stay inside and walk towards the drawer where Irene keeps pills and condoms. You take one pill and a bottle of water and hand them to her. You tell her to take it in front of your eyes to make sure she doesn’t throw it away or something.

“Look, love”, you softly say to her, “I do want to have a child with you, but we haven’t talked about this thoroughly before; me getting you pregnant right now is not wise—I hope you understand, love”. Irene nods, “y-yes, honey. I’ll be patient and make sure that I’m ready for motherhood before you breed me”. You smile gently, “one day, when we’re both ready, we’ll have sex all day long to make sure you get pregnant, okay?”. “God, you’re making me so wet”, Irene says, “I swear I’ll drain every drop of cum out of your cock, honey”.

#girl group smut #kpop smut #smut #red velvet smut #irene smut #male reader #male reader smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction

763 notes · View notes

runariya · 3 months ago

Text

The Auction (JJK) • Chapter 1

summary: After being sold to a dangerous wolf hybrid at a secret auction, you find yourself bound to him in a game of control and obsession. pairing: wolf hybrid!Jungkook x cat hybrid!female reader genre: mafia!AU, hybrid!AU, dystopian!AU, S2L, dark romance, slow burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: DDDNE, angst, violence, trauma, hybrid trafficking, JK is an Alpha, nud!ty, hormone suppressants, b!ting, blood, sniffing, the obsession is slightly showing, murd€r, gun, branding, fainting, lmk if I forgot smth - THX word count: ~ 1.8K

a/n: why would I give you a sneak peek when I could just gift you the first chapter? hihi 🤭 the chapters to this story will be as short as this one...soooo....and PLEASE MAKE SURE TO CHANGE YOUR SETTINGS, I CAN'T TAG SOME OF YOU 😭

a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

masterlist • 2

You haven’t slept in days, haven’t felt right in yourself for even longer, but somehow the adrenaline still floods through you, keeping you wide awake, on edge, your senses sharper than they’ve ever been, catching every little movement around you like your life depends on it, which is truly does.

It’s hard to believe that just two months ago, you were innocently walking down the street, not paying any attention to the blacked-out car with its door wide open or the figure standing across the pavement pretending to be on the phone. You had no idea then that you’d soon wake up miles away in another country, surrounded by other cat hybrids, far from the only home you've ever known.

You’re not stupid—you know exactly why they took you, what they’ve got planned, what they want from you. Even so, you stubbornly refuse to accept the grim future they’ve laid out for you.

The factory hall you’re crammed into now, in some grubby back room with the other hybrids, is every bit as filthy as your once-pristine black fur. What was once sleek and soft is now matted with dirt, so vile it makes you want to gag.

You’ve overheard the men who dragged you here talking about some hidden annual auction, where dangerous men from all over the world come to bid on the likes of you. Ever since, the other hybrids have been breaking down, sobbing and begging, their wails so relentless you feel like your brain is going to explode. Yet you stay quiet, ears pricked, your senses locked on every faint sound coming from behind the door.

Soon enough, they come for you all, shoving you roughly through the corridor you were brought down earlier, though this time they steer you down a different path, lining you up on a shabby makeshift stage. The construction site-style floodlights beam down so harshly that you can’t keep your eyes open for long, the brightness overwhelming and painful.

Through your squinting eyes, you catch glimpses of the men gathered in front of the stage—some muttering quietly to each other, others smoking as they lazily size up each woman. You search for even a hint of kindness in their faces, but of course, there’s none to be found—only cold stares from the most powerful predator hybrids. You feel completely exposed, even with clothes on, so vulnerable that it’s a wonder you don’t simply keel over from the intensity of being watched.

The auction starts soon enough, but it drags on endlessly, until finally, you’re the last one to be put up for bidding. It’s a shock when your price rockets past the others by millions. What doesn’t surprise you in the least is when a dangerous wolf hybrid steps forward to claim you. You knew, from the moment they snatched you off that street, that your life was always headed straight to hell.

When you arrive at your supposed new ‘home’, the wolf hybrid, who had you driven in a separate car from his, two golden retriever hybrids—one male and one female—greet you silently, as the wolf hybrid barks out “Get her ready, run all the tests.”

They bow nervously to him with obvious fear, muttering, “Yes, Alpha,” before leading you stumbling over your own feet away.

They scrub you clean, working the conditioner into your fur, detangling the knots that have formed over time. It ought to feel soothing, and on some level it does, but the very fact you’re being ‘prepared’ for something you can’t even begin to imagine keeps you from feeling any real sense of comfort. They run a barrage of tests—urine, blood, checking for illnesses like STDs—and though there’s some relief in knowing you’re healthy despite your malnutrition, the fear never leaves you. Your tail, now soft and groomed, curls tightly between your legs, trying its best to shield your bare chest from their prying eyes.

Once they’ve finished prodding and poking you, they dress you in clothes that fit a little too well, and when your fur is finally dry, they lead you up several floors until you reach the penthouse.

The space is shrouded in darkness, save for the twinkling lights of Busan’s cityscape outside. Every surface, from walls to ceiling, is dark and gleaming, with deep brown furniture blending into its shadows, the only touches of light come from minimal brass-coloured décor scattered sparingly around the room. The golden retrievers push you silently to the centre, where the wolf hybrid lounges lazily on a leather sofa smoking a cigar, his eyes fixed on you, never wavering. The retrievers do nothing more than bow silently and exit, leaving you alone under his cold gaze.

His stare penetrates you, inspecting every inch of your trembling body from your twitching cat ears down to your feet, while the heat from the nearby fireplace stings your fragile skin. You try to lower your gaze to the floor, hoping to escape the intensity of his, but his dark eyes pull yours back like they have their own magnetic force.

“What’s your name?” he asks, his voice low and rough.

You want to answer, you really do, but it’s as if your voice has been lost since the day you were taken, and your only response is the bristling of your tail in an instinctive attempt to protect yourself.

When it becomes clear you won’t speak, he’s not having any of it, and his voice booms, “I said, what’s your name!”

You flinch at the loud slap of his tone, a frightened hiss escaping your lips before you can stop it. His expression darkens, one eyebrow raised in irritation as his finger taps impatiently against the backrest.

Summoning every ounce of willpower, you manage to whisper your name.

“Speak up,” he snaps. “I’m not a fucking feline.”

You gulp, clearing your throat as best and silently you can, and try again with a parched throat, this time just loud enough for him to catch. He nods, seemingly satisfied for now.

“Strip,” he orders after a long pause, his cold eyes locked onto yours, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The last thing you want to do is obey, but you can see the anger rising rapidly in him again, and you know better than to push your luck. Trembling, you begin to undress, feeling utterly exposed even before your clothes hit the floor. He watches you with the cold detachment of someone examining an object rather than a person, and though you’re fully naked, your tail desperately tries to cover your most private parts.

The wolf hybrid sighs heavily as he stands, exuding a casual dominance that reminds you exactly who he is. He moves around you slowly, inspecting every inch of you while you stare blankly ahead, your ears twitching nervously to follow his movements.

He stops behind you, towering over your smaller frame, and you feel his cold hands glide up your arms, squeezing your shoulders lightly before his nose brushes against your neck up to the back of your ear. He inhales deeply, and you feel your legs grow weak with a dizzying wave of fear.

“You smell divine,” he mutters to himself, though the words ring loudly in your sensitive ears. “But something’s off.”

His hands trail back down your arms, his nose following the curve of your spine, your fur standing on end as goosebumps spread across your skin. He stops at your lower back, just before your tail begins, sniffing intently before, without warning, sinking his teeth into your soft flesh. You yelp in shock and pain as he spits something metallic onto the floor beside you.

“Fucking bastards,” he growls, and you know he’s right. The implant he’s just bitten out was the one messing with your hormones, suppressing your natural cycle and heats, placed methodically where you can’t reach. Though the bite stings violently and blood trickles down your legs, you feel immediate relief now that the implant is finally out.

He runs his hand back up your spine, stopping when he reaches your neck, his fingers grazing over the small burn mark where your slave number is branded into your skin. The sensation makes you shudder violently, triggering nerves that are too raw to keep you standing still, but he seems entirely unbothered by your reaction.

“Alpha…” a voice interrupts. The door opens and a crocodile hybrid strides in without so much as a knock, freezing when his eyes land on you. Instinctively, you try to back away, only to bump into the wolf hybrid behind you, making you tense even further.

The crocodile hybrid doesn’t move, his gaze fixated on you with a predatory gleam in his eye. You hear a low growl rumbling from the wolf hybrid behind you, followed by the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked close to your sensitive ear, and then a deafening shot. You flinch and scream violently, hands flying to your ears in a desperate attempt to cover them, but the damage is already done—your ears ring painfully as you crouch down, overwhelmed by the unbearable noise, tears collecting in your lash line.

It takes a moment for your senses to return, and when they do, you realise the wolf hybrid is crouched beside you, his legs brushing yours, his hands gently rubbing your upper arms soothingly as he murmurs, “I’m sorry, kitten,” kissing against the top of your head. All while the crocodile’s body lies crumpled on the floor in a growing pool of blood nearby.

You tremble uncontrollably, paralysed by fear, your mind struggling and utterly unable to process what happened around you. But the wolf hybrid doesn’t seem to care, helping you back up to your feet, brushing your soft hair over your shoulder to reveal the burn mark once again.

You barely dare to breathe as he steps away, but when you see him take an iron rod from near the fireplace and hold it in the flames, heating it until it glows angry red-hot, memories of the previous branding flashes through your mind like an alarm. You panic, your breath coming in desperate, frantic gasps. “No, no, no…” you chant quietly, but your body is frozen in place, still paralysed by the overwhelming terror.

The wolf hybrid, unfazed to the core, pulls the rod from the fire and walks towards you. Just before the hot metal touches your skin, branding you over the old mark, you hear his voice growl behind you, cold and final, “You’re mine now.”

You scream until your ears begin to bleed, your voice tearing through your throat as you collapse onto the cold, hard floor, the world around you fading into a welcoming, merciful blackness.

masterlist • 2

a/n 3: hope you enjoyed it👀 lmk what you think in any way you like!

a/n 4: please send me a message, ask or comment if you would like to be tagged for this fic 💕 also - character asks and drabble requests are open

Check out my other work here!

All Rights Reserved © @/runariya 2024 taglist: @jksusawife, @darkeneddiary, @dumbheadblog, @justjkkkkk, @staytinyville, @jaiuneamesolitaiire, @ericawantstoescape, @mjuser, @sp1derk0ok, @fluttershyvanilla

427 notes · View notes

moonwoodhollow · 6 months ago

Text

Exerzierplatz - a cc lot by moonwoodhollow (feat. The Green Room & the bookshop + a retro corner store)

Exerzierplatz is a building I've been working on for a long time as it was a bit of a trouble-child. I was never satisfied with it and kept thinking that I should scrap it, because of its awkward apartment-floor plans, until I embraced the idea of using it more as a retail/café lot. The result is something I am very satisfied with and I hope it exudes the kind of ~hip/cute neighbourhood~ vibe I'm feeling.

But it's all up to you, how you'll want to use this lot: as a café, a deco lot for your sims-stories (I'd love to see that!!) or as an actual residential building.

More screenshots, info + download link under the cut!

Building background

Another historical brick building, but I'll spare you the historical background this time because I forgot which real-life building inspired me to create this one, but I can tell you how I got the idea for this building in general! (if you care)

The name Exerzierplatz is a bit misleading if you know any German, as a "Platz" is usually a public square, buildings directly next to a square usually receive the square's name as well with a house number added. The square that inspired me is quite a dismal and empty square with a huge car park, but it got me thinking about what kind of buildings originally might have stood there. The historical context here is post-WW2, which left a lot of cities in ruins. Instead of rebuilding the original structures, some cities opted for a "car-friendly" approach, meaning lots of car parks and wide streets, that nowadays feel over-dimensioned.

Now if I had to pin down an era, in which this kind of building was likely constructed, I'd say the latter of the 19th century. It's likely to be a representative of historicism, or at least has elements from this style.

So what do you get?

Exerzierplatz is a 20x20 build best placed in Windenburg, but I could potentially see it in Britechester as well. The building is partly furnished, which means the whole ground floor is furnished, while the other two floors are left unfurnished.

The ground floor includes a café, a bookshop and a Tante Emma Laden (aka a corner store/delicatessen). All three of them are fully furnished and usable as a café or a retail store. The 2nd and 3rd floors are intended as apartments, but everything's up to you!

Uses items from the following packs: I own almost all packs, so I'd say most of them, but I will update this post once I hop back into game to have a look!

Download: Google Drive (600 MB) | Also up on the gallery: aeromantica (but you’ll need the cc files from the Drive folder!)

Is the CC included? Most is! There's an Excel file with all CC that you'll need to download manually, but it's not many files. Deco Sims are NOT included.

Also a BIG THANK YOU to all the CC-creators, without their creations, I wouldn't have been able to build this!

-> Info: I've included 4 merged files, BUT! I've prepared a little note, about which ones are hard requirements, so it's up to you whether you'll include them.

TOU: Please don’t claim as your own or put behind paywalls etc. If you find any issues (wrong/missing files, etc.) please let me know + tag me if you’ll use the house, I’d love to see it in your games.

#ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 download #sims 4 build dl #sims 4 lot dl #sims 4 build download #sims 4 build #sims 4 lot #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 interior #sims interior #simblr #the sims community #*mine #*mydownload

694 notes · View notes

kittyhui · 5 months ago

Text

“we should stop” trope with cheol

no smut, just suggestive MDNI

content tags: mutual friends to lovers (???sorta), cheol is a smoker (dont smoke..), reader is introverted, mentioned alcohol use, making out, being a bit freaky outside, cheol is hot

meeting your friends’ friends always had your introverted head reeling. “do i have to go?” you whine to jeonghan, one of your closest friends.

“no but you really should leave the house, y/n” he laughs. he was right. it was only a small get together at joshua’s (your other friend) apartment, it would only be a few other people, “you’ve met most of them anyways. plus you can stay with me and kyeomie as long as you want” he smiles at you as you finally agree to coming along.

…

surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as you had thought. even though it was getting tiring dokyeom pulling you to meet all the people you haven’t been introduced to before, it was manageable.

“oh! i almost forgot” dokyeom says, looking at you, “you need to meet, cheol” he grabs your arm again, walking you over to another person youve never seen before. “coupsie!”

you watch as the man dokyeom calls for turns around, red hair looking like fire around his head, arms looking oh so delicious in the black shirt he was wearing, and his lips; god his lips, looking cherry red like he had just bitten them so hard they bled. he looked so intimidating with a scowl on his face, until he looks at kyeom and pouts.

“i told you to stop calling me thatttt” he sulks, lip jutting out. he finally seems to notice your presence, raising his thick brow before speaking again, “is this your friend you were talking about?”

“im sorryyy, the name is so cute, cheol. but yea! this is y/n!” dokyeom introduces, your face heating up with nervousness at the redhead staring down at you.

“hi. nice to me you…” you murmur, extending your hand for a handshake. what you didn’t expect is for him to take it and pull you a little closer to him.

“sorry” he laughs, “what did you say.. its too loud in here” you repeat yourself, stuttering over your words, before he finally pulls away, hearing the complains from dokyeom about cheol ‘teasing his friend’. “I’m seungcheol by the way. most of my friends just call me cheol tho. i prefer that.” you smile again before dokyeom pulls you away again to meet someone else.

….

the rest of the night went by smoothly, and now you finally had the chance to slip away from all the noise and step outside for a breather after having a bit too much to drink. the summer breeze felt refreshing compared to the heat coming from the apartment you were just in and you could finally take a deep breath in, admiring the night sky.

“too many people in there for your tastes?” you jump at the sudden voice, turning to see the red haired man from earlier, “sorry! i didn’t mean to startle you. it’s too many people in there for me too, if that makes you feel better” he smiles at you, before turning back to face the sky, putting a lit cigarette to his lips and inhaling the smoke.

“you know thats bad for you, right?” you say, backtracking when you see his eyes widen and him beginning to burn it out, “no its fine! i dont mind.. sorry im bad at small talk” you look down at your fingers, playing with them, still feeling his eyes on you.

“you’re cute.” he laughs. he takes another inhale from the cigarette before sitting on the steps of the apartment building. “sit with me” he pats the concrete next to him, signaling you to come.

as you sit close to him, you can smell the mix of smoke and his cologne on his clothes, the scent of them seemingly driving you insane, the alcohol running through your body making you scoot even closer into him, as if to try and smother yourself in the fragrance. “you smell really good” you say without thinking, immediately burning hot in embarrassment at the reality of what you just said. he turns to you, laughing loudly.

“thank you, cutie.” he smiles, looking into your eyes, “and you look very pretty. thought that since dokyeom introduced me to you. was trying to get you alone but hannie was protecting you like a mama bear.” you laugh before his words sink into your brain.

“what- what did you want to do when you got me alone?” you question, eyes looking him up and down. you were beyond close to each other at this point, you had practically one leg draped over his thigh, and you could feel his hand on it, steadying you a bit.

“you know what i wanted to do.” he says, eyes shifting towards your lips before looking back into your own, “i can still do it now.. if you’d like.” you only murmur a faint ‘yea’ and his lips touch yours, hands cradling your head, pressing you closer and closer together.

your mind sobers up a bit, realizing that you were currently outside, in front of your friends house, kissing a guy you met barely an hour ago. “we. should. stop.” you breathe out inbetween kisses. you know you don’t want to stop but your left brain was screaming at you to think logically.

“we- can. stop. if you want” cheol slurs out, lips kissing the corner of yours, a smirk resting on them. the moment you shake your head, he pulls you onto his lap fully, having you straddle his thighs. “you’re so pretty..” he sighs out, lips gliding down your neck, sucking a few times, leaving marks in their wake. your hands rest in his fiery locks, combing your fingers through them every so often as he pulls whines out of your mouth.

“cheolie…” you sigh out, grinding lightly on his thigh, testing the waters. he groans at the sight, pulling you in for another kiss before- ring ring ringgg

“fuck-“ he groans looking down at his phone now long abandoned along with his burnt out cigarette you didnt even realize was gone, “its shua. hold on, pretty. yea. uhhuh? oh. oh okay- okay bye.” you try to listen in but your attempts were futile. he hangs up the calls, lowering his phone and putting his hands on your waist. “‘m sorry, pretty. soonyoung is currently um- puking his guts out in a bedroom.. i’ll spare the details, but i have to help shua clean the mess.” he sighs, looking at you with guilty eyes.

you look at him a bit disappointed but nod, slipping off his lap. “its fine, cheol. go deal with that.” you smile and he smiles back before kissing your lips wetly once again.

“give me your number first. just incase i don’t see you before you leave.” he shyly speaks again, opening his phone again for you to type in your number.

“alright, here” you say, finishing up your contact information. “text me whenever.. now go! there’s vomit for you to clean” you giggle as he stands up and rushes inside again.

finally standing up again yourself, your legs feel like jelly as you walk into the apartment again, spotting jeonghan and dokyeom on the couch. “hey” you say as you sit down next to them.

“oh my lord, we were wondering where you were.” jeonghan say before looking at your state and gasping, “you look a mess? who were you with??” dokyeom laughs as your face heats up again.

“n-no one..” you splutter, biting your lip remembering the man you were just with. they roll their eyes at you, whining at the lack of details you were spilling as a ping comes from your phone.

Unknown Number

Hey. This is Seungcheol.

Want a ride home?

you can hear your friends gasp, obviously reading your messages at the same time.

You

yea :) would love that <3

you send your response and jeonghan nudges you teasingly, “seriously, choi seungcheol? that loser??” all you do is smile dumbly, excited to see him once more.

#seventeen #svt x reader #svt thots #seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #scoups smut #scoups drabble #seungcheol imagines #yum yum seungcheol

592 notes · View notes

bitchlessdino · 3 months ago

Text

put it in writing (m)

In collaboration with @camandemstudios Pairing: college student!seungkwan x Fem!TA!reader Genre: humor, smut Word count: 7.8k tags: college au, TA x student dynamic, push-and-pull, mentions of TXT's soobin, mentions of Ryan Gosling, a lot of fucking lying, explicit content, unprotected sex, hair pulling, cream pies, oral, cum-consumption, pet names (baby, good boy), praise kink Summary: You keep things professional--as you should--even if one of your students is someone you hooked up with one night before the college semester started. Meanwhile, Boo Seungkwan is anything but honest--he's a writer after all--but if he is honest about one thing, it's about wanting to write a new story with you. a/n: thank you @highvern @sluttyminghao and @strxwberry-skiess for beta reading <3 (late note: I wanna thank @gyuswhore @highvern and @haologram for the brainstorming if I forgot to mention anyone I’m sorry. They’ve been a really big help and we’re super motivating and supportive the entire process I love yall 💕)

You don’t go out. Period. As simple as that.

Until tonight.

Summer is almost over, and once it ends, you’ll be Professor Yoo’s newest TA. You've worked hard to get to this point and despite the inevitable late-night grading sessions, you expect the experience to be rewarding and maybe even inspirational. You’re sure this achievement would make your academic-forward parents proud. Their daughter, at the top of her class, brimming with excitement and potential, jobs coming in from left and right, all while on her way to...a Writing degree.

The one downside: they didn’t believe a writing degree would lead to anything substantial. Not like Biomedical engineering or Accounting. The one degree worse than Art. You almost forgot that writing was useless in their eyes because who couldn’t just pick up a pen and paper to scribble some words down?

You down another cheap shot of tequila, muttering your grievances under your breath as your friends revel in the club's pulsating atmosphere. They are only mildly concerned with your drinking habits, accustomed to your tightly wound, studious nature. Typically, you are the one buried in textbooks, rarely venturing into the party scene. Yet tonight, you surprise them all with your ironclad liver, effortlessly downing shots without a hint of a stumble.

“You, okay?”

You scoff, taking yet another shot, “Really depends what that means. ‘Okay’ as in life or ‘okay’ as in financially, mentally, emotionally, sexually, and-slash-or physically fulfilled with proud parents that love me unconditionally?”

“Oh, boy.” Hyeri tries to tear you away from any more alcohol and lays you flat against the back of the leather booth, twisting the top of a water bottle before putting it on your lips. “Let's get you hydrated, hmm? Can’t have you hungover the next day. I’ll be the one you’re complaining to.”

“Suffer my consequences!”

“Of course, darling.”

Hyeri, your steadfast friend since high school and now a new TA from another university, is like a sister to you. She knows your every habit and inclination, no matter how shit-faced you decide to get. “Don’t look, but there’s supple skin, high cheekbones, and a pretty smile looking directly at you.”

You subtly fix your gaze and accidentally meet the young man’s eyes as he nurses a highball glass between his lips. His eyes narrow back at you with interest. You muse back at him, mimicking his action with the water bottle in your grasp. As you drink with your eyes glued on his expression, the water passes over your lips, with the excess trickling suggestively down your chin and neck, your skin glistening in its sheen.

His lips part, dropping in a smug smile–and my, was it prettier than anticipated–and tilt his head as if quietly beckoning you closer.

“I’m going over there.”

Before you could get up from your booth, Hyeri is there to immediately tug you back down, eyes full of concern. “Are you sure, hon? You had quite a bit to drink.”

Your eyes crease as you smile back at her reassuringly. “I’ll be fine.”

“He looks young, he probably doesn't even know what a 401k is.”

“Do any of us?” You leave off before striding in the direction of the pretty boy, who still can’t keep his eyes off you.

You weave through the sea of sweaty bodies, sidestepping spilled drinks and the pulsating lights of the dance floor, your eyes locked on him. His gaze trails you with every step, a flicker of anticipation in his eyes, speaking to you like an incantation. When you finally reach his feet, the distance closing with each heartbeat, his smile grows wider, more inviting. The moment your legs brush against the softness of his leather couch, he leans to maintain your locked gaze, a now more playful glint in his eyes. Your smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Is this seat taken?”

“Only by you if anyone else asks,” he smoothly responds.

You gently lower yourself beside him, lifting one leg to cross it over the other, feeling the cool leather beneath you. His eyes follow your every movement, lingering on the curve of your thigh as it presses against the other. You lean in slightly, your curiosity evident in the arch of your brow. “Why all alone? With a face as pretty as yours, I’d expect someone to be all over you by now.”

He shifts his body toward you, his eyes drinking in your appearance, savoring every detail from the whip of your hair and to glitter on your legs. Meanwhile, the subtle spicy sweet scent of his cologne mingles with the ambient aromas of the club, and you can’t even breathe the air without the desire to jump his bones. Especially one in particular.

He regains his smile, a slow, confident curve of his lips, and extends a hand toward you. “I could say the same for you. I’m Seungkwan.”

You take his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch and the gentle caress of his thumb against your knuckles. With a graceful nod, you gave him a firm handshake. You return the gesture by introducing yourself, your voice smooth and inviting, matching the rhythm of the music that pulses around you, and that seems to only grow his interest. “What a pretty name. You’ve been here long?”

“Just long enough,” you say, your voice carrying a playful challenge.

“What is it that someone like you does to want to let loose in a place like this?”

“Mmh, I don’t know. It really depends on how much you’re willing to share,” you reply, narrowing your eyes and taking in that body begging to be undressed.

“Well, if you must know, I work somewhere…uncommon,” he says, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

You lean in too, resting your elbow on the back of the couch and propping your chin on your hand, your fingers lightly brushing your lips. “Do tell, Seungkwan.”

“Don’t be surprised, but I’m a bit of a big deal, especially around here,” he brags.

You raise an eyebrow, ready to bite. “That’s very vague. Mind elaborating?”

He briefly shifts his eyes to glance around the room, the smile never leaving his lips. He leans in closer, his breath warm and tickling against your ear, making it burn. “Just know I know the ins and outs of this club,” he whispers, his voice a tantalizing murmur. “Some information you might find even surprising that no one else knows.”

You pull back slightly, your eyes locking onto his, a spark of intrigue dancing between you. “Sounds like you’ve got some secrets,” you murmur, your voice low and rich. You reach for his drink from the table in front of you, your fingers brushing against his thigh for balance as you lift the glass to your lips. You take a slow, deliberate sip, not minding that its rim has touched a stranger's lips. “How sketchy,” you dare insult with a playful glint in your eye as you set the glass back down.

“Care to find out?”

“What part of ‘ sketchy’ did you not understand?” You softly laugh.

“I promise it’s harmless,” his voice brimming with mischief, poking the inside of his cheek playfully. “Or at least, you’d have a little fun.”

You hum amused. “Define fun.”

He takes you by the hand, his touch firm yet gentle, leading you away from the pulsating dance floor to a secluded corner of the club. The music echoes softly in the background, its bass reverberating through the walls. You follow him through a maze of dimly lit corridors and alcoves, catching glimpses of other partygoers lost in their own worlds.

The air changes as you enter an empty private space, cooler and quieter than the crowded main room. Your eyes fall on a single secluded corner with windows going ceiling to floor, flooding the room with skylight. The faint scent of his cologne lingers in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of alcohol and the crisp air of a cracked open window too high to reach.

As you settle into a seat in front of the windows, you observe the city through the crystal clear glass, drinking in the scene of small tables adorned with flickering candles, and erotic artwork adorning the walls. The music from the main floor is muted here like the world behind closed doors fell silent for this moment, and only you two are left in the room to bask in it. If temptation was room, this had to be it.

There’s a subtle shift in his eyes, a flicker of something unreadable—resembling pride—before they revert back to his calm suavity. He assumes the seat next to you on the plush velvet couch tucked into a private nook that touches the light of the stars. The soft glow of ambient lights casts a warm, intimate ambiance around you, contrasting with the pulsating beats of the club music that drifts in from the main floor.

“It’s a V.V.I.P area,” Seungkwan explains in a low voice, “Some of the employees don’t even know it exists.”

“But someone like you does?” you inquire, your voice tinged with intrigue.

He shrugs nonchalantly, a hint of pride evident in his demeanor as his body dipped into the leather. “I have my way around here.”

“Really?” you tease, growing slowly more convinced.

Seungkwan meets your gaze with a playful grin. “I obviously can’t tell you everything,” he says, his tone brimming with mischief. “Just know that I’m involved in ways that keep this place running smoothly. The club would die without me.”

You chuckle softly, savoring his playful confidence, and leaning against the cushions, head turned to him. “What can you tell me?” you ask, your voice growing softer. Your finger traces a teasing path down the collar of his shirt, undoing a button with deliberate slowness. “Humor me,” you exhale, your breath brushing against his ear and your gaze locked with his.

You can hear his breath hitch, and finally, you have him right where you want him. He fixes on the way your legs cross, tracing the curve of your calf up to where they disappear under the hem of your skirt. He seems momentarily captivated by the subtle movement of your flesh as they collide against each other, giving hardly any brain capacity to cumulate words.

You notice the furrow of his brow, a slight tilt of his head—as if he were mentally dissecting his thoughts. The dim lighting cast shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity in his eyes tried to regain clarity. You can almost visualize the gears turning in his mind, each cog clicking into place as he forms a coherent story, if any.

Each word comes out in complete shambles and he is saying more nothing than anything. Whatever the truth is at this point, you don’t care. Seungkwan is just too cute to pass up.

The clearing of his throat tells you he’s finished, the tilt of his smile growing less confident and more anxious as your weight pushes against his chest. He tries to come back from his stumble, picking off strands of hair in front of your face and playing with their ends before changing the subject. “Now tell me your work. What is so amazing that you do?”

“I’m—“ a teacher’s aid in massive debt on their way to graduating with potentially a useless degree neither of their parents is proud of because, although you love it, you’re too proud to say otherwise, “—a indie movie producer with one of the films up for a reward. Super lowkey right now, but…we got Gosling.” You shrug, impressed with your own lies. “So, things are looking up.”

“That’s quite impressive.” he hums, intrigued and interested in hearing about more. “Is he as nice in real life as he is in interviews?”

“Ryan’s got a screw or two loose, but pretty okay guy. At least not into Scientology or anything.”

“Interesting,” He gaze dips towards you, being drawn to you immensely, if not locking eyes with you, scanning over your features, particularly your lips that wished to be claimed. “You call all big-name celebrities by their first name?”

You shrug, the lying coming more and more naturally than anticipated. “Only the ones I’m close with.”

His palm hugs the curve of your cheek, thumb softly brushing against your bottom lip. “I wonder what getting close to you entails.”

“Are you planning on finding out?”

You give each other a long look, one that keeps waiting and ushering the other until your lips decidedly crash into his. His lips part, making way for your presence, the heat of the kiss flushing your skin and pleased shivers running throughout your entire body. Your breath hitches when you feel his teeth pulling your flesh and a soft sigh escapes his lips before his hand creeps behind your head and muffles a moan that neither were sure from who.

You lift your body from the couch, chasing his pace, and pull him closer, kissing him deeper with all your might. You crawl over his lap, straddling his hips, hands in his hair, breath on his skin. Your chest tightens as he presses you closer by the small of your back, to which you gasp as you part from his lips.

He finds your gaze, his round and glistening eyes meeting yours in soft urgency. “You okay? Something wrong?”

You shake your head, palm clasped against your burning face. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

He lets out an amused scoff. “Keep up, Miss producer.”

Your lips reconnect, and fireworks play in your like it’s the fourth of July. Popping and popping. Your lip lock only intensifies as your tongues brush against one another, entangling deeper and soon you realize Seungkwan wasn’t one just to kiss with his lips.

You ball his clothes in fists when his hands use your hips, running them over his lap, the friction so tantalizing you could hear temptation like a devil on your shoulder. You let him take you, moving towards him replicating crashing waves against sand. Loud. Harsh. Seamless.

Clothes come off soon after, starting with the delicate unbuttoning of Seungkwan’s silk top–donning the torso of one fond of sports and sprayed in excitable perspiration–before then he levers you up and slides slacks down his thighs hurriedly. His bare legs crushed underneath yours, you readily pull up your dress, bunching at your waist as feel him unzip the back, the metal chill against your spine.

“Fuck,” he softly mutters, eagerly digging his fingers in your exposed flesh and whimpering against your kiss. “Don’t hold back with me.”

“Hold back?” you repeat with a chuckle, your fingers that threaded through his hair pulling his head back, angling his head so that he was forced to look up at you in what currently looks to be in awe. “You don’t have to worry about that with me.”

“Shit stirrer, huh? I guess that’s why you’re the one handling production.”

Your lips begin to trail down his jaw, front teeth nipping his skin. “Real question is, would you let me handle yours?”

“I’d let you do anything to me,” he mumbles, earnest in every word, every inch of his body vibrating off yours, including the hardening presence between his legs pressing against your stomach. “Just don’t stop.”

Your dress abandoned on the floor, Seungkwan claiming your tits in either hand, kneading them between his fingers as he’s rolling his hips against your plush flesh and feeling your radiating core slide against his shaft. He involuntarily moans through a bitten bottom lip, imagining you ride him just like this until the end of time, thinking he could cum from this alone until he feels you move the tip of his size towards your entrance. “Oh god,” he gives out, the head of his cock readily grazing over your slit, quickly pleased. “So fucking wet. Fuck…”

“I want you inside me,” you admit, not bothering to subdue your desires. “I want to put you inside me and make me feel every inch of you.”

“Fuck…me…” he presses into your skin flushed against one another, lips curled downward in impatience, gripping your full thighs to either of his sides. “I wanna fuck you so bad. Please give yourself to me.”

“You promise you’ll handle it like a good boy?” You tease, pushing his tip only a centimeter deeper.

“Please, please, anything. I just wanna feel that pussy choke me please.” He begs.

Your hand clamps against the couch enthusiastically, “Fuck you’re so needy. That’s so hot.” Gingerly, you reward his pleas, feeling his raw length make contact with your contracting walls, squeezing around his girth and making Seungkwan flip his eyes before he starts guiding your hips.

“Fuck that’s so good, baby.”

You lightly scoff. “Baby? A little soon don’t you think?”

“Thought we found some common ground when you decided for me to fuck you. My mistake,” he chides.

You catch a tendril of his hair between your fingers, “Maybe it’s how you fuck me that grants you such a term of endearment.”

“Better up my game then.” He lifts you up, tangling your legs around his waist before he pushes you on your back, swiftly slamming his hips against you.

Your head crashes deep into the leather, the musky scent of sex now invading your nose as you drown in heat. “Shit.”

“Making sure I get the advantage.” He folds forward to press against you, your breasts back in his hands before his lips wrap around a nipple, his tongue attacking your sensitivity before he inevitably sucks. He leaves you in an ache, your hips thrusting back into him conveniently in time for him to regain his rhythm.

“S-Seungkwan…”

His moan vibrates against your skin, teeth pulling your nipple as he thrusts deeper, grazing your deep end just perfectly not enough. Fucking tease.

You whine beneath him, squirming. Your legs tighten around him, attempting to make friction, and finding a growl in your throat as a hand of Seungkwan’s squeezes your behind. A whole ass cheek in the clutches of his well-groomed hands, squeezing and memorizing its swell, while he’s splitting you in half to deduce you to a bumbling horny mess.

“Where have you been all my life?” He mumbles with glee.

You clench your fists behind him as he heightens his pace, melting into the tender assault of his lips that burn your skin and silence your voice. He ruts into you deeper, pounding away his frustrations and when he makes it known he’s found your spot, you make it clear as day.

“Oh god,” you groan, gripping him tighter. Your jaw drops slack, silent screams coming out of you, and you cling to him like in desperation to maintain that high as you claw against his broad back.

“That’s so good. Is it right there, am I hitting your spot, baby?” he asks with an exhausted grin.

You nod, softly pleading for more, and he generously grants. In an attempt to intensify your core’s pleasure, his hand cups just above your slit, fingers finding your blossoming bud. Your breath is shot, feeling the caress of his thumb press down before rubbing your arousal around your clit. Your hips thrust into his touch, gripping him by the shoulders, feeling your combined sweat drip from your sides and squeaking against the couch fabric.

“Oh my god, oh my god…” You can’t control it anymore. Seungkwan isn’t just pushing you past the edge, he's shoving you off.

“Like that, baby. Yes, what good girl cumming all over my cock,” he sweetly praises.

You reach him by the back of his head and propel him forward, colliding lips in a fervent liplock. Your moans drowned between one another, your climax coming in tenfold as he didn’t for a second stop, even well after you came.

Yet, it isn’t enough. Seungkwan shifts and tugs your legs to border his torso. He lifts himself from the ground, his feet flat, shutting your legs tight, having the sweat of your thighs chafe against another unsettlingly. It then becomes completely overlooked with his hips, his cock starts pushing in and out of you, and folding himself into you with your closed legs as your pussy choked around his cock. Your walls pulsating around him, hot and lush, he death grips your body and watches your flesh recoil back against him deliciously.

“Fucking shit,” he groans, plunging deeper as your cries moisten your cheeks and he brings you to a foreign level of ecstasy.

His release from what you can tell is thick, warm, and inviting. Your legs find a mind of their own when they decide to lock the stranger in place, feel every ounce of pure pleasure shooting down inside you, coating you in your collaborative efforts, and residing peacefully deep, deep in your sore heat.

Your lover collapses against you, eyes barely managing to open as he guides your bodies in a more comfortable position, his cum and cock still inside you.

He’s softly pant, red on every inch of his face, residual from his raging orgasm and…fluster? “I…I don’t usually—“

“I don’t mind,” you gently reassure, brushing away the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. “I wanted that to happen.”

“But what if—“

“It’s nothing you have to worry about,” you hint and fortunately he gets the clue, cuddling up to you closer.

“Good.” He nods, sounding off in relief.

You play with his ear, thumbing over the flaming red tip. “That was really good.”

The boy can’t help but grin, “I make good on my promises…and if you want, we can do it again.”

Your movement stops. “Oh.” Now you’re panicking. “I don’t think we should.”

His cock slips out of you with ease at your confession, both flaccid and disappointed as cum drips down the leather. “Why not? I thought you liked it.”

You begin sitting up, taking Seungkwan with you. “Of course I do! It’s just…my schedule doesn’t allow me to date—let alone see people outside of work—so, this wouldn’t work.” You offer him an apologetic pat on the back, feeling the muscles pulse against you before you regretfully pull away. “This is actually my last night in town, I was gonna leave soon for another shoot…but this was wonderful.”

You cup his cheek, flushed red and soft as can be, and kiss its fullness, letting your lips linger. “I’m so sorry.” For absolutely lying about everything about me when you gave me the most incredible orgasm I’ve had in centuries and to myself for cutting lose the hottest fucking man fiction and nonfiction you’ve ever fucking met.

“No, I get it,” he answers, a hint of sorrow in his gaze. “You got things going for you. That’s ok. Just let me know when you’re in town, hmm? We can get together again, maybe?”

His sense of hope is admirable, something you saw in yourself a few years ago before the toppling towers of crippling debt fell on you. “I don’t think so, handsome.”

He sighs. “Alright. I get it.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head with a knowing smile. “Don’t be.”

“You ended my vacation the best way you could’ve,” you egg on, “Couldn’t have ended my last night in town any better.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles, finally a light flickering back in his eyes. “Then maybe I can give you a parting gift.”

You raise an eyebrow, following his figure leaving your body and find his knees back in the ground and between your legs, “Seungkwan?”

“Can’t have you leave a mess.” His hand glides over your thighs, gaze flickering from you and your cunt oozing in cum, and his full lips kissing your inner thigh, tingling legs and garnering goosebumps down your shins.

“Are you actually—“

His tongue scraps on the skin just next to your lips, a mixture of your climax settling on his tongue, and you mewl at the sight. He kneads your flesh, his moans tickling your skin and admiring it how he knew how: worship.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” His fingers play against your sensitive folds, tension pressed on your clit. “You’re everything I could want…tasting you and pleasing you is the least I could do.”

His mouth wrapped around your lips before sucking, tongue parting what’s between, and sighing at the harmonious flavor dancing inside his mouth. Your worn walls contract around him, it feeds his desire as he pushes his face deeper inside you, and melts at your hands finding hair in soft strokes.

Your voice aches for another release. The sensation of his jaw locking and nodding in your heat as his tongue fucks his cum back inside you drives you to up a wall. You squirm the faster he flicks his tongue, legs pulling back and forward, overwhelmed by Seungkwan’s mouth until he holds either one at either side, locking it around his neck.

His eyes ooze with determination and his face falls from color. The compromising position he put himself in is not one free consequence, but for the last single of the most greatest fuck of his life, losing a bit of oxygen was worth it, and his efforts are soon proven.

When you cum this time on his tongue, Seungkwan has never tasted anything sweeter, or rather bittersweet knowing this would be the last he’d get the chance to. He’s tasting you, savoring you, worshiping you. From the scent of your body, to the face you make, from what you feed him. If he knew how impossibly decadent you just were–only for you to leave–maybe he wouldn’t have done this. Or maybe he would.

Reluctantly, Seungkwan breaks apart from your lips to reconnect with another. One last shared, heated breath of this spontaneous exchange. One that he’d remember for a long time, and think about over long nights. Tenderly, your foreheads are the ones to kiss in a silent farewell, sad smiles on both your faces.

“Thank you…for reminding me what it feels like to live my own life.”

The pretty boy softly scoffs, kissing you once more, the tingle his lips lingering on yours. “Make your stories magical as you’ve made my night. Take care, Miss Producer.”

You quickly get dressed before the sexy stranger pulls you right back in his trace and you drag your friend and club attendee all the way back home, giving you the pleasure of finally resting in bed, body still aching from the sweltering sex hours ago. Sadly, without the warm body you enjoyed so much tonight. He made a lasting impression on you and you hope maybe one day on better circumstances you’ll meet again and the lie may someday be true. If you’re so lucky.

Eventually, summer takes its final laps and you’re entering the college semester and start working closely with the professor you’re aiding. The matter that your life is slowly being sucked away becomes more real the longer you look at his lesson plan and although you love writing, you know you’re about to dread the long evenings of paperwork to come.

The first day of being a TA: get in the building by the car you have barely hanging on, meet with the professor, get in lectures and “TA”, skim through your new work for graduate classes, and sadly eat your late lunch/dinner alone because you know the ziplock of trail mix marinating in your backpack would not be enough. That’s the plan. Easy to follow.

Students start trickling into the classroom about twenty minutes before actual lecture time, some with nervous faces and excited expressions. Then a few minutes before the lecture starts, hoards of students are coming through, the classroom getting louder and louder as there is not enough space for white noise. You feel your heart beating increasingly–admittedly more nervous than anticipated–finding yourself focused on papers to avoid eyes with the other students until you can’t anymore.

With over 100 students, you start to feel like an imposter, a kid playing dress-up in her mom’s closet. Normally, you're not one to get nervous on the first day, but being a teacher’s assistant makes this situation different. You’re terrified of screwing up, whether it’s a big mistake or a small one. You tell yourself you need to get out of your head.

When roll call becomes necessary, the professor hands you the clipboard, forcing you to introduce yourself and make your presence known. Your hands tremble from natural nerves as you call out the names on the list, doing your best to pronounce each one clearly and coherently. Then your gaze lands on a name all too familiar, one that’s been on the tip of your tongue before. You can’t help but look up, eager to hear the voice that responds.

He stares at you, a look of pleasant surprise on his face, his lips curling up at the corners as his eyes gleam with intrigue—just like that night before.

You clear your throat, quickly averting your gaze, and resume roll call. You decide right then to ignore him for the rest of the day, the semester, and possibly the rest of your college career, if you can help it.

When you finish, you don’t dare look up again, telling yourself it’s because it’s the first day. You’ve done everything you needed to do for now.

As the lecture wraps up, it’s time to leave. The professor dismisses the class and exits the room, leaving you to pick up the pieces and answer any lingering questions from students. You just hope this particular student isn’t one of them.

“I had a question, Miss LN.”

You’re reminded that hope is just another word for wishful thinking. You don’t need to look up to know who it is. His voice is already etched into your memory, feeding the part of you that wants to respond, and you clench your thighs at the memory.

“Sure, what… um, what is it?” you respond, still not looking up.

“It’s about the syllabus. I was hoping we could discuss it in private?” His tone carries a hint of something familiar, something that doesn’t belong between a student and a teacher’s assistant.

“The syllabus is pretty self-explanatory,” you reply, trying to keep your voice neutral, though your pulse quickens.

“But I wanted to ask, just in case I misinterpreted anything.”

You make a show of straightening the papers on your desk, the crisp shuffle loud enough to make it clear you’re not amused. “You're a writing major. I’m sure you understand everything just fine.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to check,” he says, a casual shrug masking the intent behind his words.

You sigh, knowing you won’t easily shake him off. Finally, you meet his gaze, catching the anticipation simmering in his eyes. With a resigned breath, you gather your belongings and stand. “Fine, follow me.”

As you lead him to a tucked-away corner, your footsteps echo in the quiet hallway. You glance around to ensure there are no prying eyes before stopping. He waits until you’re both out of sight before speaking, his voice lowering in that familiar way that sends a shiver down your spine. “So, how’s the indie film coming along, Miss Producer?”

Your arms cross instinctively, a barrier against the playful look on his face. His eyes sparkle with amusement, as if this is all a game to him. As if your college career and your career career didn’t hang on the very balance of this conversation and your history. “Very funny,” you reply, glaring at him. “Just two big liars caught in their own webs of lies. How serendipitous.”

He chuckles softly, the sound unnervingly familiar and instinctively arousing. “I know why I lied, but why did you?”

You plant a hand to your chest defensively. “Excuse me, I never anticipated seeing you ever again. It’s natural I’d lie—wait, why did you lie?”

“To get laid. Duh.” He answers as if it was the obvious thing in the world.

You roll your eyes, back knocking against the wall behind you. “Of course, fucking dumbass college boys.”

“You fell for it, so who’s the dumbass now?”

“Still you? Were you even drinking age?”

“Uh, yes that’s how I got in, otherwise they never would’ve let me in.”

Your palm runs over your face in embarrassment, cringing for long nights of thinking of your student of all fucking people. “I fucking knew you didn’t own the Gemstone.”

“Yet, you fucked me anyway.”

You rush towards him, your breath catching as you pin your fingers in front of your lips and hiss, “Will you shut your mouth?”

He crosses his arms, leaning back against the wall, a smug smile playing on his lips. “Why? You’re a TA, not a professor.It’s perfectly kosher.”

“It’s still highly frowned upon to fraternize in that manner, regardless of whether I’m a TA or a professor. I grade your fucking papers,” you shoot back, your eyes narrowing as the frustration rises in your chest.

He just shrugs, that infuriating grin never leaving his face. “Hey, if it gets me a good grade…”

“Or watch me fucking fail you,” you snap, stepping even closer, your voice low and dangerous. “Don’t you ever speak a word about that night again, got it?”

His smile falters slightly, but he quickly recovers, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, geez.”

“Good.”

But he can’t resist one last jab, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “My lips—and pants—are sealed.”

“Seungkwan!” You hiss his name, barely keeping your voice down, your cheeks flushing with a mix of anger and something else you refuse to acknowledge.

He chuckles, clearly enjoying himself. “Oh, it’s been a while since you screamed my name.”

You grit your teeth and speak through harsh whispers, your patience wearing thin.

“I will drop-kick you if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

He grins wider, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leans in just a fraction. “Like I said, I keep my promises. See you on Wednesday, Miss TA.”

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, seething, the echo of his footsteps fading down the hallway. The air still buzzes with the tension between you, and you take a moment to collect yourself before heading back, wondering how you’re going to survive the rest of the semester with him in your class. If all your encounters are like this, you might as well quit now.

As expected, that initial confrontation isn’t the last you see of Seungkwan. While being your student, your forced interactions have become a bit of a spectacle among other students, especially considering Seungkwan stares back at you every lecture like you’re the only two people in the room. His routine of pestering during and after lectures has become something his peers have look forward to and you wonder if this kind of thing is normal for a teacher’s assistant.

It seems to have stirred up varying opinions, even among students from other classes—ones far removed from your department, who typically wouldn’t give a second thought to your work. The rumors have even reached the ears of other TAs, the ones you’ve built strong camaraderie with, turning casual conversations into whispered speculations. Some of those speculations have been harmless, fueled by curiosity and mild intrigue. But others? They’ve taken on more confrontational, and their tense gazes have you questioning just how far these rumors have gone.

But is it really a rumor if its all true?

"So, you and that Seungkwan kid, what's that about?"

You give a grand sigh, the weight of your colleague's curiosity pressing down on you as he peers at you, eyes alight with nosy mischief. His intent is clear—he's fishing for details about your relationship with one of your many students. But Seungkwan is different. Far different, even if you’d never admit that aloud knowing how your reputation would stand.

"Really not your business, bud," you reply, trying to keep your tone light, though it’s hard to miss the edge beneath your words.

Your colleague, Soobin, raises an eyebrow, completely unfazed by your attempt to shut him down. "Funny enough, I’m in the business of making things my business."

You scoff, fingers curling tightly around the handle of your freshly brewed coffee, the warmth of the cup your only source of comfort in this conversation. The rich aroma wafts up, offering a brief distraction. "He's my student, obviously, and he’s going to stay that way."

The words come out sharper than intended, the finality of your tone surprising even you. You take a long sip of the coffee, letting the bitterness anchor you. This conversation is tiptoeing too close to a line you’re not ready to cross.

Soobin raises his hands in mock surrender, though there’s a knowing glint in his eyes. "Okay, okay. No need to be so defensive. Good thing you’re keeping it professional."

"I know that. Why are you mansplaining, Soobin? Don’t you have work to do?"

"Of course. Just wanted to point out—it’d be a real problem if you did."

"Uh, yeah. Obviously."

"Good."

"I just wouldn’t want to lose anything over it."

You narrow your eyes at him. "What now?"

He hesitates before continuing, grinning sheepishly. "Okay, okay. There might be a bet going around about whether or not you and that kid sleep together again."

"What the—again? Again? What are you talking about?" You gape at him, incredulity painting your features as you struggle to process his words.

"Oh, come on, don’t play dumb," Soobin says with an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes. "Everyone knows."

You blink, your mind racing to catch up. "…Everyone?"

"Everyone." He nods emphatically, the corners of his mouth twitching as he takes in your stunned reaction.

Your face falls, and you run a hand through your hair in frustration, your shoulders slumping. "Well, fuck." The words escape you like a dismayed exhale, your voice tinged with disbelief.

"And I bet that you wouldn’t. At least, not until the end of the semester."

"You bet money on me?" You’re seething, anger now directed at him.

"Not money," Soobin says quickly, raising his hands in a defensive gesture, as if to ward off any further criticism. He leans in slightly, his tone taking on a pleading edge. "But seriously, just don’t do it, okay? Be a good TA and a good friend. Don’t sleep with the boy. Just... don't."

You glare at him, incredulous. "I oughta do it just to make you lose."

"Please don’t! It wasn’t money I bet!"

You narrow your eyes further. "What did you bet, then?"

Soobin shifts uncomfortably. "Just... test answers."

"Soobin."

"Please! Just help me win this. I’m begging you!" Soobin’s voice is desperate, his eyes wide and pleading.

“You could jeopardize your scholarships with this kind of bet.”

“So don’t let me lose this one!” His frustration is palpable, his hands clasped together as if in prayer.

“I could just hit you,” you threaten, though the words come out more resigned than menacing.

“But I’m so lovely. Don’t you think?” Soobin’s attempt at levity falls flat, his forced grin barely concealing his anxiety.

“Soobin, this is seriously messed up.”

He continues, undeterred, “The money I could win could buy me a new apartment to rent out. I’d finally be able to move off-campus.”

“This is so fucked up,” you mutter, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I know, I’m literally on my knees here, dude,” Soobin says, lowering himself as if pleading for mercy.

You run a hand through your hair, trying to stave off the growing irritation. “Fine, damn it. Okay. I hope you’ve fucking learned your lesson and won’t pull this kind of stunt again.”

You meet his gaze head-on, your patience visibly thinning. "Are we done here?"

He nods vigorously, a small, almost imperceptible smile of relief tugging at the corners of his lips. "Of course."

As Soobin walks away, you watch him go, the remnants of the conversation hanging in the air like the fading scent of coffee. You take another sip of your drink, this time more deliberately, letting the warmth seep into you. You try to channel your remaining energy into something productive, determined to salvage what’s left of your day. The knowledge of the bet and the weight of your friend’s reputation hanging in the balance makes every decision weigh heavy on your shoulders.

Despite the sprawling campus and the vast number of students, gossip is as vibrant and pervasive as ever. Seungkwan doesn’t help matters, especially with the frequent discussions you’re having about his late assignments. No matter how stern and resolute your tone becomes, he meets you with a gaze that’s both wistful and enigmatic. His eyes, filled with a mix of wonder and intrigue, follow your every movement. They start by meeting yours directly, then drift downward, lingering on your face, then lower, then lower, and finally–

"Are you paying attention, Seungkwan? Or am I going to have to talk to Professor Yoon about you finally dropping the class?"

Seungkwan leans against the auditorium chairs, averting his attention to the sharp expression on your face, a smug smile tugging at his lips. "No, nothing of the sort, Miss TA. Please, continue to lecture me about what an awful student I am."

Your eyes narrow as you cross your arms, forward on your desk, tapping your foot with growing impatience as you shuffle through to gather your belongings. "I will—and starting where your assignments have been showing up several days late. I can’t keep making exceptions for you."

"Why not? You’re so good at making me feel special," he teases, head tilted, his voice dripping with a sultry sarcasm.

Your patience snaps as you sharply tap the stack of aligned papers on the desk, the sound echoing through the room. "Stop it, will you? Your grade is sinking fast, and at this rate, you’ll be repeating the class."

He shrugs, that maddening grin still in place. "Would that really be so bad? You’d get a whole new semester with me."

You scoff, standing upright, pacing a few steps as frustration simmers just beneath the surface. "Are you seriously going to waste your tuition money just to fail? At least pretend to make an effort. Chatgpt exists for students like you I’m assuming."

He tilts his head slightly, eyes gleaming with mischief. "If only someone wasn’t so distracting, maybe I could. You’d understand, Miss TA."

You stop mid-step, spinning to face him, your voice sharp. "Enough. And stop calling me that—it’s like you get off on it."

"Oh, I do." The playful tone in his voice is laced with something else now, something heavier.

Your jaw clenches, heat rising to your face, thighs sealed against one another.. "Your assignments. On time. By the end of this week, or I’ll recommend to Professor Yoon that you drop the class."

"Fine," he mutters, his tone nonchalant, the smirk still lingering lazily on his lips as he halfheartedly stuffs his books into his bag. His movements are careless, and a few sheets of notebook paper slip out, drifting lazily to the floor without him even noticing.

You sigh, bending down to pick them up. As you straighten, your eyes unintentionally flick over the handwritten lines—only for something to catch your attention. You freeze, blinking at the words on the page. "What the...?"

Seungkwan’s demeanor changes in an instant. His eyes widen, and he lunges forward, panic flashing across his face. "Don’t read that!" His voice is more urgent, almost desperate.

But you dodge his grasp, holding the paper just out of reach, your brow furrowing. "What is this? And why is it actually... interesting?"

"Give it back," he says, his tone softer, pleading now.

"Why don’t you put this much effort into your assignments?" you ask, glancing up at him, your curiosity overtaking your frustration.

Before you can react, Seungkwan steps closer, his movements more deliberate this time. He snatches the paper from your hands, but his proximity catches you off guard. He’s standing close—too close—backing you into the edge of your desk. His face is flushed, his breath coming in shallow bursts, and you can see the embarrassment in his narrowed eyes, the tips of his ears burning red.

Your heart stutters in your chest, your breath hitching as the space between you seems to shrink. The air feels thick, charged with something you know too fucking well. For a moment, neither of you moves, your eyes locked like you’re frozen. You’re acutely aware of every small detail—the way his fingers clutch the paper tightly, how his chest rises and falls with each breath, the warmth radiating from him as he towers just slightly over you.

Suddenly, he stumbles, his foot catching on the leg of the desk, and you gasp as his weight nearly knocks you backward. Your hands shoot out, gripping the edge of the desk to steady yourself. Your glasses slip down your nose as you blink up at him, your pulse quickening, his face inches from yours.

"Sorry," Seungkwan mutters, quickly pulling away, flustered as he hurriedly gathers the fallen papers, stuffing them into his bag. "I’ll do the assignments. Just... don’t fail me. And don’t repeat whatever you think you read."

Without waiting for your reply, he storms out of the room, leaving you standing there, your chest heaving, the ghost of his presence lingering in the suddenly too-quiet space.

You try to steady your breath, ignoring how ragged it had become, and the unsettling way your blood pulsed—not just through your heart, but in places you'd rather not acknowledge. You forcefully push those thoughts aside, desperate for any distraction. Tonight, that distraction would be class assignments.

With an iced coffee marinating at the corner of your office desk, the papers in front of you blur as his face flashes through your head. You can’t help but recall the way his lips looked—full and slightly parted, the way his eyes gleamed with a mix of defiance and something else entirely. And the warmth of him—how heavy and undeniably right he felt as he leaned over you, his presence lingering even after he was gone.

You shake your head, determined to refocus on grading, gripping the red pen a little tighter. But your mind drifts again, this time to the words you’d glimpsed on that crumpled page. The writing had a familiarity to it, something deeply personal that tugged at the corners of your mind. Reminding you of how much you remembered that night. Specifically how good that night felt.

‘Her whispers, haunting, breath heavy. She gazes at me with eyes full of want, strands of hair falling over her forehead, tantalizing and wild. Her cheek is warm beneath my hand as I pull her closer, our lips meeting, tasting the sweetness of something long desired but never claimed. For this night, she is mine—even if it's only for this night alone.’

Your cheeks flush as the memory hits, the realization settling in with a mix of shock and something you can't quite name. The words were unmistakable—vivid, intimate, dripping with a desire that mirrored the tension between you two. You recognized the inspiration behind them immediately.

He’s writing his own fanfiction. And it’s about you.

Suddenly, you’re not so much thinking about the bet Soonbin warned you about.

#svthub #thediamondlifenetwork #seungkwan smut #boo seungkwan smut #seventeen smut #boo seungkwan #seungkwan #seventeen #seungkwan fanfic #boo seungkwan x you #boo seungkwan x reader #boo seungkwan x y/n #seventeen fanfic #seungkwan x y/n #seungkwan x you #seungkwan x reader #seventeen x reader

383 notes · View notes

kumagorosh · 1 year ago

Text

RESULTS ARE IN!!

CONGRATULATIONS TO INAZUMA JAPAN'S STRIKER KIYAMA HIROTO! 🥒🌠

HUGE THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO PARTICIPATED BY VOTING AND SHARING ❣️

left to right: kira hiroto (the original); hiroto; gran

left to right: kiyama hiroto; kira hiroto (inago)

left to right: kiyama tatsuya; kira hiroto (areori)

#the most inazuma character to ever gay #. that gives me idea for another poll #🧍‍♂️#SERIOUSLY THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO VOTED AND SHARED THIS POLL!#it's very important to me to know which hiroto is fandom's most beloved... for inner peace!#inajapan kiyama winning honestly surprised me for a little bit #like that's a pretty significant gap isnt it?! i'd thought gran would've won #also oooooh yall hate tatsuya so much dont yall 😭🐤 /j #just fyi i voted areori's kira hiroto :00 #hes a very particular type of blorbo to me #its the intersection of alternate realities & the core of your soul & family issues & violent tendencies & loneliness &#theres so Much . about him #just like in general #i was torn between voting him and orange jacket hiroto actually...#but i still ended up voting him bc hes the one thats been steeping in for longer in my thoughts also because i write him a Lot more than i #do kiyama #feel free to reblog and explain why you picked your votes!#it'd be nice if i could get qualitative data too but i forgot to put this on the og post .#or tag me in your hirotoposts thats fine too #posting this on buzzfeed: what your favorite hiroto says about you #(no I won't dw)

80 notes · View notes

tastesousweet · 2 months ago

Text

⭒ blurb : the fever

bf!hamzah x poc!reader

summary : blurb based on this request!!!! or hamzah takes care of reader while she's sick

mickey speaks : i hope u enjoyyyy, more of my hamzah works can be found here <3 also i’m updating my tag list so pls lmk if you’d liked to be tagged in any fics in the future

─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────

there's no worse way to start your morning than in a pool of your own sweat and reading a thermometer displaying 101.2°F.

without any strength to attempt to leave your bed and no appetite to drive you to perseverance, you're left slumped lazily against your hot pillow.

just as your blinks begin to slow and your eyes droop low, an irritating sequence of vibrations beam from your phone. you pinch your eyes and let out a slightly dramatic but definitely necessary whine that turns into a groan as you stretch your arms far above your head.

you take your time, hoping whoever is waiting on the other line takes the hint by the forth ring that you’re busy drowning in your misery. you open your eyes just a peek before the ringing completely stops.

a relieved sigh comes over you as you lift your plush comforter over your head in hopes of reducing any natural light your windows allow to shine into your cluttered room.

it rings once more.

“fuck!” you let a blip of rage slip out in a seething tone, kicking your feet against your mattress harshly (an immature way of expressing yourself which makes you feel fifteen again; annoyed by your old obnoxious alarm clock).

you pull the oversized covers from your face and lean over to fiddle and grab your phone from its charging dock on your jagged, wooden night stand.

your tight expression is slightly shattered when you see the large text and tiny image in the corner of the facetime call displaying your boyfriend’s name and face.

you swipe to answer, falling back onto your pillow and covering your torso with the comforter once more (after having stripped of any clothing throughout the sleepless night).

your pouty face goes to the corner of the call as hamzah displays largely across your screen. he’s set his phone on top of his dashboard, still focused on actively driving when you answer.

“heyy, whatcha’ doing? haven’t responded to my texts at all, i was gettin’ worried..” his tongue plays with the gum in his mouth, popping multiple tiny bubbles at once.

your voice gives an unexpected voice crack, “i’m doing terrible,” hamzah’s a bit thrown off by your response but you don’t acknowledge his facial expression, instead you rub your eyes, “where are you going?”

“what happened?!” he arrives at a red light and looks at you while he’s stopped, “did you not sleep well? i was on my way to get you- thought we were playin’ pickleball today with martin and mandy.”

“eughhhh, i totally forgot about that- i’ll have to text and tell them i can’t anymore i’m like dyinggg, h. my temperature’s over 100.” you sniffle and groan.

“nah, don’t worry about that i’ll tell ‘em we can’t make it. you just stay put and i’ll be over in like- just a sec, okay?” he keeps glancing over to look at you which you appreciate, though you prefer for him to pay attention- but you don’t necessarily feel like getting into a back in forth with him over his driving habits right now.

“m’kayyyy you’re the best, love you.” you thank him gently, blowing a kiss towards the camera.

“mmm i like hearing that. you’re my favorite.” he smiles to himself, “yeah, um, i’ll see you in a bit- maybe try and get some sleep though, girl?”

“i’ll try,” you whisper.

“okay, be right there, love you.”

✧₊⁺

you’re not sure how long hamzah’s been at your side when you eventually wake up again to him sat next to you, looking through one of your many 2000s magazines.

you tap his knee silently, seemingly in a better mood after some well needed rest and the comfort of waking up in hamzah’s presence.

he displays a faux since of shock, “wow and she’s somehow even prettier when awake!”

you smile and slip your hand under your cheek as you lay and look at him, “hi, when’d you get here?”

he places your magazine down next to him, "got here maybe two hours ago? i stopped by a store and grabbed you some medicine to take and some other essentials like kitkats and iced tea- did you know hilary duff and lindsay lohan had hella back and forth beef??"

you nod, "duh, of course i do! and getting me snacks wowwww you're so perfect, huh?"

hamzah playfully shrugs his arms up and down, "a little somethin' like thattt, just for you."

you laugh but begin to cough uncontrollably, to which hamzah screws his face up in faux disgust; you stare, "thanks."

“nahh i’m playing,” he grabs one of your hands and kisses the back of it, “do you need me to do anything?”

“can you come brush my teeth with me?”

he nods immediately, standing up and picking your body (wrapped delicately in your covers) up and carrying you bridal-style into the bathroom down your skinny hallway.

on the way there you laugh again which leads to another coughing fit which you cover as much as you possibly can. hamzah teasingly stretches you away from him whining out an “eeuuuhhhh!!!” but you are quick to give him a glare that has him giggling and apologizing by curling you back into his broad chest smacking a few million kisses onto your cheek.

you push his face away in warning, “stop it you’re gonna get sick, stupid!!!!”

✧₊⁺

hamzah stands between your legs as you sit on the counter and brush your teeth. he thinks you look like an angel- or maybe a tooth fairy with the suds elegantly surrounding your mouth. despite your runny nose, hot, clammy skin and sleepy eyes, the white comforter manages to compliment your complexion in the most beautiful of ways. the sight in front of him was weirdly so angelic… “so pretty…” he lets his thoughts trickle into the air.

you pause your movements and look up at him starting to grin before scooting to the side and spitting into the sink. he grins and decides to joke with you a bit, scratching the back of his neck and blowing a raspberry into the air next to him, “did i say pretty?? i meant so ….sickly??” he squints his eyes a little trying to figure out where exactly he’s going with this, “because you’ve come down with something…. bad.”

you roll your eyes and shake your head, “it sounds like you want to call me beautiful…” you bat your eyelashes as you quote him through a mouthful of toothpaste and an insane urge to laugh.

hamzah laughs for you and wipes his eyes exclaiming, “enough! let’s wrap this up.”

✧₊⁺

hamzah made you take medicine and eat top ramen with him before you lay back down in bed. now you're lying up against your headboard watching reruns of sabrina the teenage witch with blankets curled up to your chin.

when hamzah finally comes back into your room he knocks twice before stepping into the space; he’s adorned with an arrangement of white tiger lilies in his hand and a small smile on his face.

you’re absolutely shocked, “what the fuck??? h, when’s you have time to get those?!” you prop yourself up and he hands them to you.

“i saw a little shop that was closing up when i was on my way back to my place just now; it’s cute you’d like it,” he moves to lay next to you.

“thank you,” you look at him lovingly, “for everything today; you treat me so well. how were the kitties doin’?”

“mhmm, they’re fine missin’ you though.” hamzah feels a since of pride from your words, taking the flowers from your hand and setting them on your nightstand (next to a roll of toilet paper you’ve used for your runny nose and a few empty water bottles). he turns back to you and brings his hand up to hold your face, “you’re so easy to treat well.” he leans closer to your face and your eyes shift down to his lips before you’re pulling away.

you playfully scoff and shake your head no, “nuh uh, i’m not getting you sick!”

“baby i’ve been around you all day and feel fine!! my immune system is the best there is, ‘promise.” he traces your lips with his thumb gently.

“you’re sooo…” you mumble the scold, turn on your side to move away from him.

he leans over you giggling, “amazing?” he kisses your cheek. “perfect?” another closer to your lips, “you’ve said them all before!” he sets a sweet kiss to your pouty lips before retreating back lie against the pillow next to you.

“i was gonna say needy but those work as well…” you grumble and smile to your self, “hold me?” you ask a bit louder, peeking over your shoulder to see hamzah drop his phone and immediately give you the attention you want from him, nuzzling you close and kissing your neck softly.

✧₊⁺

a few weeks later via Out of Character on YouTube

martin: yeah, and you’ve been freaking sick the past week and a half! how was that?

hamzah: very whimsical and magical. i’m kidding obviously it sucks and y/n was actually the one to give it to me! i’m not blaming but i am.

martin: i think that’s the worst part about having a girlfriend like if she’s sick you’re gonna get sick too- mandy’s like a freaking warrior though she’s never sick. it’s actually really odd.

hamzah: it’s because she’s a nurse, i think

martin: actually dude?

hamzah: yeah i read about it (he’s lying)

#hamzahthefantastic #hamzahthefantastic fanfic #martin and hamzah #hamzahthefantastic x you #hamzah x y/n #hamzah x reader #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzah #slushynoobz #slushy noobz #slushy noobz virus #martin #thatmartinkid #mandysiphone

239 notes · View notes